


Destination Disney!

by Lordoflesamis



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Disneyland, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, I don't even attempt to hide my love for Disneyland, I'm not sorry, Joly is epileptic, LMAO, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Shameless dream holiday, Trans Marius, Very domestic and cutesy, agender jehan, established relationships - Freeform, lottery winner AU, self indulgence really, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-07-08 05:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15924242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lordoflesamis/pseuds/Lordoflesamis
Summary: When Courfeyrac wins the lottery he has a very exciting plan for Les Amis: a two week holiday to Disneyland in Florida. While in the Happiest Place on Earth, Enjolras plans to admit his feelings for Grantaire, Musichetta tries to find a good way to announce her pregnancy to her boyfriends, Eponine begins to pine for Cosette as well as Marius, Cosette wants to impress Marius' friends, Grantaire attempts to get over Enjolras and Combeferre plans to propose to his wonderful, crazy boyfriend. Feuilly, Bahorel, Gavroche and Jehan just want a chance to relax. Hijinks ensue. Nothing but fluff with minor angst.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I wrote this because I miss disney and love Les Amis.... so yeah. Plenty of fluff ahead, over the top ride and park descriptions, probably a lot of falling for each other during firework displays- I am gay as hell and this fic shows it :') Please enjoy!

Why Courfeyrac had gathered them all into his and Combeferre’s small apartment at nine in the morning on a Sunday was beyond most of them, though none of them could deny the man had a great sense of the dramatic. All thirteen of them, including his rather confused looking boyfriend Combeferre, now sat on their sofas in the living room, only nine fitting on the sofas including the arms, the others dotted around the floor, either sitting or standing. 

“I don’t buy that you know nothing,” Enjolras said, arms folded as he leant against the doorframe, eyes narrowed at Combeferre, who shrugged, “I have genuinely no idea. He just called me crying this morning and said we all needed to come round for some very exciting news.”

“I hope whatever it was was worth getting up this early on a Sunday.” Musichetta said, but her voice was warm and unbothered. There were a few murmers of agreement before Courfeyrac finally burst in, encumbered by a large cardboard box, face shining with a brilliant smile, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. 

“Hello Friendos!” he greeted, setting the box on the table, “Thank you for your patience. I suppose you are all wondering why I gathered you here-“

“Yes, yes we are.” Bousset interrupted,

“Get on with it!” Grinned Bahorel, making Courfeyrac give out a funny sort of giddy giggle, and he clasped his hands together, rocking back and forth on his ankles.

“What is it, Courf?” Combeferre prodded encouragingly. 

“Guess who just won the lottery?” Courf yelled, and there was a gasp around the group, “And not just a scratchcard.” He withdrew, from his pocket, his phone which displayed the email he had received the night before.

Combeferre, smiling almost as wide as his boyfriend, stood and went to look at the phone. He took it gently from Courfeyrac’s trembling hand and then dropped the phone.

“You won Twenty-Two MILLION EUROS?” he gasped, and there were screams in the room. Everyone rushed Courf, too excited to form words for a few minutes. The closer people to Courf could see tears on his face- and probably on Combeferre’s too, had he not immediately wiped them away, sweeping his boyfriend off his feet and twirling him around. 

When the noise finally died down, Courfeyrac managed to get them all to settle, “Now, now. I did exactly what any smart person would do with the money. I’ve put it all into a savings account- except for some of it. I have something planned for all of us!”

His friends rushed to begin to say he didn’t need to do- but he stopped them before it could really begin, “Trust me, this is way more for me than any of you. I’m taking us ALL on holiday this summer! Guess where we’re going!”

There was a pause, and then Combeferre spoke, a little reluctantly, not wanting to think they were hoping for something else should his boyfriend have something different planned; “Las Vegas, so you can waste it all?”

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, “Nope!”

“Italy?” Musichetta asked, hope evident in her voice despite her best efforts.

“Nope! Sorry!”

“Look Courf just tell us,” Enjolras smiled, “This is going to take forever.”

Courfeyrac’s smile widened, if it was possible, “Now obviously this isn’t all I’m spending the money on. But this will give you some clue.” And he flung open the box, revealing fourteen Disney Store bags, and beginning to hand them out.

“Oh God.” Grantaire said, still too shocked to say anything substantially sarcastic, peering inside to see its contents. There was an envelope, addressed to him, among a pair of rainbow sunglasses, a pair of Mickey Mouse ears, and a disposable camera. 

Out the corner of his eye he saw Cosette cover her mouth as she withdrew Minnie Ears, putting them on before tearing open her letter. 

“Dear Cosette,” she read aloud, standing on her feet in excitement, “You are invited to a once in a lifetime holiday to Disneyland Orlando, in Florida! We’re going for two weeks, I’ve paid for the flights, house and tickets and will pay for groceries you just need to bring spending money for greasy American breakfasts, overpriced merchandise and a LOT of alcohol! We’ll be going in June, for my birthday obviously, please please please come! Inside this letter are your plane tickets and your Disney Tickets!”

“Wow Courf you didn’t have to do this!” Joly said, smiling, and the others began to join in before Courfeyrac held up his hand, 

“It’s for me, darlings, let’s be honest. And I am so damn excited. This is going to be the best holiday any of us have ever had.”


	2. The Adventure Begins!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Les Amis leave France for Disneyland, Jehan is cute and Grantaire is a little shit.

“I know we want as much time as possible in the U.S,” Grantaire said, pausing to yawn, “But is a seven AM flight really necessary?”

“I’ve learnt to not question our resident millionaire,” Bahorel said, surprisingly chipper, helping him to load his suitcase into the taxi that had pulled up outside their apartment block.

It was four AM now. The only sign of the day ahead was the distant chirp of birds and the occasional revving of a car engine, perhaps a commuter, perhaps another holiday maker like they were. It was summer now, hot and dry, though the morning was cold and the darkness made it seem more like the breach of Autumn, and Grantaire shivered as he stood at the doorway, rubbing his arms. He wore a T-shirt and jeans only, knowing not from experience but from google that Florida was humid and much much hotter than Paris had been in a while. 

In front of him Bahorel and Feuilly were dressed in similar attire, Feuilly looking sleep-deprived and groggy, Bahorel smiling cheerfully, having slept the entire day before to be awake for this moment. Joly was already inside the taxi, his wheelchair tucked into the back of the people-mover, face pressed against the window, snoring openly. Technically, he only needed his wheelchair for extended distances, preferring to use his cane, but they had figured as a group that walking around the theme parks Courfeyrac had explained multiple times in detail, would be tiring on him and require the use of his “Transformer Parts” as Grantaire referred to them. He had also suggested, only somewhat jokingly, that they could use Joly’s chair to skip lines, but had been cut down by Courfeyrac who insisted that “In Disney, the lines are Part Of The Experience”. And since the lunatic was paying for them all, none of them argued, with the agreement that they’d only skip unreasonably long lines or if Joly was too tired to walk. 

Musichetta, dressed in low-lying jeans and a tank top, helped Bahorel with the bags, singing Disney songs and dancing along to her own voice, the much larger man beside her joining in for duets and harmonies. 

“You okay?” Bousset asked, jolting Grantaire out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” He smiled, clapping his friend on the back, “I’m so glad you didn’t break a foot or something before this.”

“You and me both,” Bousset grinned, then turned to look at Joly’s sleeping form, fond expression on his face, before he had a thought and turned back to look at Grantaire, “Hey, this would be a perfect place for you and Enjolras to get to know each other, you know. Happiest place on Earth and all that.”

Grantaire laughed, a little empty, “Or maybe get over him.”

Bousset’s eyebrows shot up across his forehead, where they would disappear into his hair if he had any. “You? Get over Enjolras? Good fucking luck mate.” 

Grantaire grinned, feeling embarrassment rise in a flush on his face, that Bousset’s friendly attitude swiftly removed, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s healthier that way.”

Grantaire had been in love with Enjolras since he had first met him, for five years. He had known it as soon as their eyes met, and he had suffered every moment ever since. His pining was not only noticed by all their friends (luckily seemingly not noticed by the object of his desires) but caused him a great deal of pain and took up a lot of his therapist’s time during their sessions. He figured, now being twenty-three years old, he should try and get over it. He couldn’t go on doing this to himself. 

Bousset yawned, then shrugged, then threw an arm around Grantaire’s shoulder, “It’ll all work out. And you never know, maybe a Disney prince or princess will sweep you off your feet.” 

Grantaire laughed, then wrapped his right arm around Bousset’s shoulder, withdrawing the Itinerary Courfeyrac and Combeferre had given them all the week before, which had a long list of what they would need on the first page. “Do you, my dear unlucky friend, have the following items?” he grinned, false official, poncy voice making Bousset laugh slightly.

“Your passport?”

“Got it,” Musichetta said, “In my bag.”

“Your tickets?”

“Also in my bag!”

“Your phone?”

“In my pocket!” Musichetta called, now only a pair of legs sticking out from the boot of the taxi as she leant in to put something in its far corner.

Grantaire rolled his eyes, “Okay do you actually have anything on this list Bousset?”

Bousset shook his head, “nobody trusts me with anything.” 

“For good reason.” Feuilly smiled, “Now we just need Jehan and we’re ready to go.” 

It only took a few moments after he said that before the wheels of a suitcase sounded on the pavement, Jehan walking towards them with a nervous smile, their small form standing out from the darkness due to the obscene outfit they sported. It was a yellow cropped top, their thin midriff pale and exposed to the cold, and a black skirt that was cut around their knees but longer at the back, making it suitable for hot weather, and a bright red sunhat that matched in no way shape or form. They threw their arms around Grantaire in greeting, helping him to lift their case into the boot, “I’m so excited,” they said, patting down Grantaire’s mop of hair, “Aren’t you?”

“I mean I’m always down to get drunk in some hot country and go on rollercoasters.” Came the reply, and Jehan beamed, before slinging themselves into the taxi. Grantaire considered having a cigarette, then figured he could have one outside the airport, and that they shouldn’t be late, not when Courfeyrac cared so much about this holiday.

/// ~/// 

There was a little traffic, nothing major. Combeferre tapped his fingertips on the steering wheel, focusing on staying awake and keeping them safe rather than the constant flow of words out his boyfriend’s mouth. Courfeyrac was practically vibrating with excitement in the seat beside him, showing Enjolras photos of the house they would be staying in for the next couple of weeks. 

Enjolras had driven to their house rather than staid the night as they had planned, and therefore had avoided the Disney explosion that had occurred in their home this morning. Courfeyrac wore black denim dungarees, a t-shirt underneath an explosion of colours, with the original characters on it. He wore glitter on his face and his Minnie ears, and had made Combeferre take several hundred selfies with him that morning. His ever-loving boyfriend wore Mickey ears, a Disney-Land castle t-shirt with back jeans and suspenders, knowing it would be too warm to wear his usual jumpers but not wanting to wear shorts until necessary. Both were more than aware they weren’t actually going to a Disney park that day, but Courfeyrac was excited and Combeferre loved him too much to refuse him.

“It looks incredible.” Enjolras smiled. He took Courfeyrac’s (new) phone from him and scrolled through the photos.

“There are seven bedrooms, a games room and a pool!” Courfeyrac grinned

“Sit in your seat,” Combeferre smiled. He was ignored.

“Your room is next to ours, I thought you didn’t want to share or anything, and we’re gonna have so many nights lying by the pool and having margaritas!” He continued, the last few songs sang, making Enjolras laugh. 

Courfeyrac glanced at Combeferre, as if to gauge his reaction to something he hadn’t yet said, before turning back towards Enjolras with a grin, “And Grantaire is in the room across from us…”

Enjolras frowned, feeling his cheeks go red, “So?” 

“You’ll get to see him as soon as you wake up, isn’t that nice?” Courfeyrac prodded and Enjolras stared him down, falsely blank expression.

“But don’t worry you have an en-suite so you can doll yourself up first!” Courfeyrac grinned, seeing through him completely. 

“I… erm….” He spluttered, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know,” Courfeyrac said, finally getting a little out of his face by turning to face the road, “You’ll probably get drunk and admit you’re in love with him anyway, you might as well just tell him.”

Enjolras flushed bright red, glaring out the window in response. “Leave it, darling.” Combeferre said, not unkindly, and they fell into silence.

Enjolras had been hopelessly in love with Grantaire for five years now. It had taken a year for Combeferre to realise it, and a further two years for Courfeyrac to catch on. He found the other man so frustrating, so exasperating, yet there was a fondness he couldn’t find himself shaking, an affection that was indescribable, overbearing. 

“Maybe,” he said, resolving, for the first time, to do so. 

/// ~ ///

Cosette had made sure they all got there with plenty of time. She parked her fiat in the long-stay carpark, helping Marius and Eponine load their suitcases onto a trolley, making sure to subtly leave enough room so Gavroche could ride it if he wished to. 

“I’m gonna ride all the big rides, screw the kids stuff.” Gavroche said as he leapt from the car, vaulting a nearby empty trolley and jogging on the spot.

“How you have the energy to do any of that right now is beyond me.” Eponine half-muttered, half-growled as she began to walk towards the lifts, taking a long gulp of coffee from the cup she’d got when they stopped on the way, “It’s four-thirty can you at least have the decency to pretend to be tired?”

“Nope!” Gavroche grinned.

Marius smiled, texting Courfeyrac: “Hey you guys here yet?” and following the others into the lift as Cosette and Eponine pushed the trolley, refusing to let him help (Not that he would have been much more help anyway, Marius had the strength of a small deer). 

It took a mere three seconds before his friend and ex-roommate replied, “Yes, Just Got Inside, Waiting Inside The Building!” 

The airport wasn’t busy, but there were thirty or so other people in the main entrance, checking in their belongings and getting ready to go through security. As they entered the building, they could see the rest of the group, standing in a large, loud group, Courfeyrac taking selfies with each and every one of his friends. 

“Hey!” Cosette called, waving, her too-long sleeves flapping against her slender arms. Today she wore a large white sweatshirt with a Minnie face on it, white tights and a pair of high-waisted black shorts, and along with her flawlessly ringleted blonde hair, looked like a china doll. Not only had Marius hyper-ventilated slightly on seeing her that morning, but Eponine had also had to catch her breath a few times, and it was only five. 

She grinned with perfectly-painted lips as Courfeyrac pulled her into a selfie, then began to help Gavroche tie his shoelaces, and Eponine couldn’t help but think about how much like a Disney princess the other girl was. Who needs to go meet Cinderella? She thought to herself, only slightly sad, very wistfully, mainly in awe. 

“Shall we get going then?” Enjolras asked, clapping his hands together, as Gavroche pulled a stupid face in his selfie with Courf. 

“Wait! We need a group photo!” Courfeyrac yelled, running to grab a woman nearby, who startled, but agreed to take a photograph, holding her daughter to her side as she did so.

Courfeyrac dragged them all into a line, beaming, “Try not to look like you’re dead inside!” 

“Cheese!” they chorused, and she took several photos until Courfeyrac found one he was happy with, “Great! We can put this on the fireplace at our new house!” he grinned at Combeferre, who smiled warmly, nodding in agreement, and gestured for them to head to check-in. 

While they loaded their bags onto the conveyers, Joly leant against the nearby pillar and scrolled through his Instagram, glad he was allowed to keep his cane with him, and tried very hard not to worry about the flight ahead. He wasn’t afraid of flying- though if he thought about it long enough he certainly had the potential to be. It was really the thought of being trapped in a tube with hundreds of strangers, and hundreds of strangers’ germs. 

He smiled as Musichetta’s arms wrapped around him, sinking into his girlfriend with a sigh. “Hey boo, you doing okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” he said, “Just tired. I’m not feeling bad or anything.”

“Good.” She grinned, “Let’s go get breakfast.” 

They found a breakfast place after security, which took a little less time than expected, though as Jehan told them, American security was a lot worse and a lot longer., and settled into a row of tables, some ready to eat their fill, others wanting a place to sleep, and all in desperate need for caffeine.

“One coffee a day, Gavroche.” Eponine said, as motherly as possible, and the twelve-year old rolled his eyes.

“And one beer, yeah?” He grinned, and laughed when Grantaire fist-bumped him.

Shooting her best friend daggers, Eponine sighed, “I mean if you WANT to be arrested in America be my guest. But you’re nine years too young to drink once we get there.”

Gavroche pouted, making her laugh, “If you’re really good, on Courf’s birthday I’ll let you have one beer, at the house.”

“Sick!” he grinned, sipping the coffee Grantaire had poured for him and grimacing. 

/// ~ ///

Courfeyrac double-checked they’d all got their tickets when they reached the gate, feeling giddiness rise in his chest with every confirmation.

“So that’s rows 18a through 20a” the attendant smiled, her eyes tired, her hair pulled back into an orderly bun to give the impression of awakeness. 

“Awesome, thank you!” He grinned, practically running towards the plane. 

Most of them recognised the smell as soon as they entered the cabin. The odd, false atmosphere, with the strangely stale, strangely harsh smell of the room they were to spend the next ten hours in. Courfeyrac, of course, had the window seat of his, Combeferre and Enjolras’ row, and on their right Joly leant against the window, staring at the wing to his side, no doubt assuring himself it always looked like that when he flew.

Behind them, in row 19, was Gavroche, Eponine and Grantaire, the first having never flown before and the latter only a few times when he was younger, and never for this long. As Grantaire sank into the seat behind Enjolras’ he gave it an experimental kick to gauge his friend’s reaction. He was met with a death stare that made him laugh, and a smack on the head when he did it again. 

“Stop flirting,” muttered Eponine, putting her bag into the overhead and climbing over him. 

On their right Jehan sat beside Bahorel and Feuilly, having flown a lot during their year abroad in New York the year before, and the other two having flown a lot in recent, more financially viable years, for couples’ holidays. 

Then finally, behind Grantaire and Eponine, sat Marius and Cosette, beside some poor stranger who had yet to occupy the window-seat. “It’s fine,” Cosette said, “We’re nice.”

“You mean you’re not any of us.” Jehan said, making her giggle.

“Absolutely.” She nodded, pretend sombre, then began to rifle through her in-flight magazine.

Take off was fine, for the most part. There was one jolt that made Joly cling to Bousset’s arm like his life depended on it, and Enjolras’ ears popped rather painfully, but sucking on the sickly-sweet lollipop Combeferre insisted he took helped. 

In the first hour, Courfeyrac chatted non-stop to his seat partners about the Magic Kingdom, which they were to go to the day after they arrived, and both his best friends humoured him, too tired and fond to try and steer the conversation onto something else. Beside them, Musichetta attempted to read “I Am Malala”, though was frequently distracted and joined in their conversation, being the only member of the group besides him to have gone before, when she was five, ten and fifteen with her family. Bousset and Joly played various paper-based games like hangman, noughts and crosses and, occasionally, I Spy, and chatted about how glad they were going to be on the other side.

Grantaire kicked Enjolras’ chair every thirty minutes, keeping check on his phone. The first time he did it in the first hour, Enjolras didn’t seem to notice, or clearly thought it was a mistake. On the second there was a sigh, and Enjolras’ head appeared over the headrest, a slightly amused glare on his face. Grantaire grinned, mock innocent, and went back to “American Gods”. Gavroche spent the first hour on his DS, feet on Combeferre’s seat in front, chatting amicably to both his sister and their flatmate. Eponine doodled in her sketchbook, drawing a fantastic likeness of her brother with his tongue sticking out his mouth, concentrating hard on the Professor Layton game he played. On Row 19B, Jehan scrawled in their notebook, hunched over their tray-table for the first hour. Bahorel and Feuilly discussed the American football they hoped to watch while they were in Florida, and whether or not it was ethical to go to Gaterworld. “If I made a world called Bahorelworld would that make you happy?” “Actually, yeah!”

Marius slept for the first hour. Cosette spent it chatting politely to the stranger, a middle-aged american man named Carl who was heading home from a business trip, and sketching new designs for dresses, for both herself and also work. She was also working on a dress for Eponine, a secret project which she hoped would bring them closer. Since she had begun dating Marius she had known about the other girl’s feelings for him, and while it hurt her heart to know that, it equally hurt her heart that Eponine could potentially not like her as a result, and Cosette adored Eponine. 

In the second hour, breakfast was served. It came in a tin foil-covered plastic tray, but most of them wouldn’t deny free food. It was followed by coffee or tea, and for Gavroche an orange juice. In the second hour, they mainly ate and chatted. 

In the third hour, Courfeyrac watched Bridget Jones on the in-flight service, and Combeferre and Enjolras talked about plans for Les Amis once they got back, and who would update their blog while in Florida. “You know you want to do it, Enjolras so why are we even discussing it?” Musichetta, Joly and Bousset put on the latest marvel movie, taking care to begin it at the same time as one another.

Grantaire kicked Enjolras’ chair twice more, and twice more received a similar response. Eponine and Gavroche practiced their English, Gavroche’s exaggerated cockney accent making them laugh. Jehan read Grantaire some of the poetry he’d written, then decided to catch some shut eye. Bahorel and Feuilly did the same, pushing the arm-rest up between them and cozying up as much as Bahorel’s bulking form would allow.

Marius, who had stirred not for breakfast but for tea, helped Cosette with her crossword book, mindful of Carl who looked as tired as they were. 

In the fourth hour, Enjolras grabbed Grantaire’s foot as he raised it to kick his seat, shooting him a triumphant grin, “Don’t you dare.” He said through gritted teeth, and Grantaire swallowed, laughing, letting his foot drop to the floor. Combeferre went over their documents for arrival, then began to watch a documentary on Whales. Enjolras flipped through the in-flight magazine a few times, then decided to succumb to temptation and watch Bridget Jones as well. 

Movie still going strong, Musichetta paused only to go to the bathroom for the second time that flight, which both her boyfriends thought was a little odd, but didn’t press. “Maybe she doesn’t like flying so much.” Bousset said. 

Gavroche announced that his legs needed stretching, then proceeded to stretch them dramatically in the aisle, much to Eponine’s chagrin and Grantaire, Feuilly, Bahorel and the now-awake Jehan’s enjoyment. 

Marius did some work on his computer, blushing furiously when Cosette pressed a kiss to his forehead, asking politely if she could switch seats with Grantaire for a little while. She sank into the seat beside Eponine like an angel floating to earth, tucking her knees up under her jumper and beaming at her. “I heard you practicing your English,” she said, “Can you help me for a little while too?”

“Sure!” Gavroche grinned, “All you really need to know how to say is ‘Hello’ ‘Help’ and ‘Fuck’” 

Eponine winced, hitting his arm lightly, embarrassed, but Cosette giggled, clasping her hands together in front of her smile. She had painted tiny mickey-mouses on her fingernails..

“aren’t you gonna be really hot in that outfit?” Was all she managed to say, cursing herself slightly.

Cosette shook her head, “No, I have a shirt on under and I can remove the tights.” She replied in slightly broken English, and Eponine gently corrected her, smiling hesitantly when the other girl thanked her, and began enthusiastically asking her grammar questions.

By the fifth hour, Enjolras hated how he was beginning to miss the kicking on his chair. 

Lunch was served in the sixth hour, and the lights had now fully come on in the cabin. Musichetta read her book, rubbing her eyes in tiredness and smudging her once perfect winged eyeliner. Bousset gently wiped it with a wetted finger, and she scrunched up her face to make it harder and him laugh. Enjolras, now heavily invested in his sudoku, jumped when his chair was kicked, and turned around with an un-suppressible smile. 

Grantaire’s shit eating grin made his heart flutter a little, but he smacked the other man with his in flight magazine instead. When he sat back down with force, Combeferre gently nudged him, “You wanna switch seats?” he whispered, and Enjolras shook his head, laughing slightly.

“It’s fine. It’s a joke.”

“It’s a flirt” Combeferre corrected, smirking as Enjolras spluttered. 

By the seventh hour, most were getting antsy. There was an in-flight game system too, with a rudimentary quiz that Jehan was surprisingly and consistently good at, and it soon became the goal to beat them in the quiz.

In the eighth hour, the final snacks were brought around, and Grantaire ordered his first beer of the day. “I’m aiming to be drunk by the pool by 4.” He said, and Bahorel nodded sagely, “You and me both brother.”

Cosette bought some crisps and sandwiches, knowing the group enough to know they wouldn’t think to do the same in case it took too long on the other side, and passing a chocolate bar over to Marius, who beamed and shut his laptop, stretching and messing with his binder a little.

Carl, who had been asleep for the last five hours, turned to them and said, “Are you… all here together?”

“All fourteen of us,” Cosette smiled.

“God help us.” He said, and they laughed.

The Ninth hour passed agonisingly slowly. Grantaire increased the amount of times he kicked Enjolras’ chair until the other man had had enough of it, saying “Please stop.” And disappearing into his coffee. 

Gavroche was asleep now, drooling over the window. A little turbulence happened in the ninth hour, but nothing major. 

In the tenth hour, they were all talking about the holiday ahead, all excited, all eager to be done with this whole travelling business.

“It’ll be worth it guys, I promise.” Courfeyrac said, a little concerned, but his friends told him it was worth it just because they were all together, being as cheesy as they could to reassure him.

The landing was much worse than take-off. There was a total of sixteen vomits among them, six belonging to Musichetta, who was having a little trouble with keeping food down lately at the best of times, and three being Enjolras’ fault, as he was notoriously bad with landings. 

“Oh thank GOD.” Enjolras said once the plane hit the tarmac. He then threw up into the bag he held. Combeferre rubbed his back sympathetically, brows furrowed.

/// ~ ///

“Can You believe it’s only midday here?” Courfeyrac asked as they made their way towards the cars, “Ten hours later and its only Midday!”

“Time is a wonderous and confusing and terrible concept.” Enjolras nodded, holding open the door for the others. 

“We have two big ass cars,” Combeferre said as they approached the airport’s car rental stand, “I’m driving one and I believe the other parents are driving the other.”

Bahorel nodded, “Yeah me and Feuilly’ll drive the other. Who’s in which?”

“Well it doesn’t have to be rigid,” Combeferre said, “So we can sort it out when we’re all loaded up.”

It was hot and humid as they exited the airport doors. The air was thick, and for a few milliseconds it seemed impossible to breathe it. Palm trees in plastic greeted them, and very enthusiastic Americans. Most of their English was perfect, but these people spoke with such enthusiasm it took Combeferre a few minutes to process what they were even saying.

After fourty minutes each and every suitcase and person had been slotted into the two seven-seaters they’d rented, the air conditioning blasting and windows down. “Okay then!” Courfeyrac grinned, addressing those in the cars like a circus ringleader, “To Adventure! To the Best Holiday Ever! To-“

“Get in the car, Courf.” Enjolras said, leaning out the window.

Courfeyrac pouted, then ran to do so, laughing with excitement.

Every single one of them felt a pang of excitement and relief as they pulled away, heading into Kissimee, towards, hopefully, a cool pool and a nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments make me motivated to write so.... leave one? ;)


	3. Day One continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! So excited to be able to upload on time, for once! I'm hoping this will continue- and I'm so excited to share this chapter :)

Adult stuff. Adulting. Serious Business. No nonsense by the pool.

The sat-navs built into the car were a lifesaver, it turned out. While the drive wasn’t particularly long, it was strange to drive in America, coming from Paris. The roads were all so big and straight, and there weren’t any roundabouts at all. They got lost twice somehow. 

Combeferre remained calm throughout, though he couldn’t help feeling a little flustered. Courfeyrac spent the entire drive talking to Gavroche about the rides they were going to go on, trying to encourage him to go on even the “kiddie” rides, because they were great in their own ways. Too busy trying to look grown-up to listen, however, Gavroche just scoffed, though he did end up laughing at Courfeyrac’s fake-american announcer voice as he described them to the twelve-year-old. 

Grantaire, sitting in the middle of the middle row, having been generous enough to give Eponine and Gavroche window seats either side of him, kept mostly quiet, helping Combeferre with directions occasionally, from the paperwork in his itinerary. Enjolras sat in the back with Jehan and the suitcases, making a list of groceries to get for the time they were there, and complaining slightly about the heat. He wore his signature button-up shirt and jeans, and it was looking to have been a mistake.

“You can get changed before we go to the supermarket,” Jehan reminded him, “I think I dressed okay- but do you think people will be mean to me if I dress like this here?”

“Well… I don’t know.” Enjolras said, “If anyone gives you shit for it we’ll sort them out though.”

Jehan giggled slightly, then fiddled with the hem of their skirt, “Maybe I’ll get changed.”

“Don’t.” Enjolras said with a smile, “It looks great. At least keep the crop top.”

Jehan smiled, “It is my favourite colour!” then his brows furrowed, “Add suncream to that list. A lot of it. This hat isn’t big enough to cover my arms.”

“It’s already on there,” Enjolras said, underlining the item.

They pulled into the Emerald Isles a little while later, marvelling at the tall, detailed gates as they passed through them, following the car Bahorel drove in front of them. They pulled up to the registration office, and Grantaire pointed past Gavroche at a lake that stretched out a little whiles away, “I’ll bet there are gators in that there lake” he said in a stupid Southern Drawl, making the boy laugh nervously.

“What? No there aren’t.”

“There might be,” Eponine said, as Combeferre and Courfeyrac got out to go register for the house, and Gavroche looked alarmed.

“You’re kidding.”

“No they’re native to the area,” Enjolras said, and Gavroche’s face paled. Enjolras didn’t lie about these things.

“Shit,” He said, making them all laugh, “Really?”

“Yeah but we’re perfectly safe,” Eponine said, swatting Grantaire, “They have security, and no alligator’s going to try and eat you, trust me. Fish are easier targets.”

Gavroche gulped, pressing his face to the window pane, no doubt squinting to look for alligators in the lake. 

“We’re in number 24” Courfeyrac told them proudly, as if that number had any significance to them, and they all nodded in response. 

Peering out of the window, Eponine could see Musichetta pulling faces out the window of the other car, and she laughed, responding in kind.

/// ~ ///

The house was beautiful. It stood massive, on two substantial storeys, typical American villa style; a large garage door with two car spaces in front, a window at the top hall looking over the street of semi-identical houses, an enclosed pool to the rear, a subtle peach and white colour combination that was satisfying and pleasant to look at. 

Courfeyrac took several photos, and told them that they didn’t have to take one now, but they did have to take one in front of the house at some point, while Combeferre distributed the keys. They had been given six between the fourteen of them, given to Combeferre, Enjolras, Feuilly, Musichetta, Cosette and Eponine to represent each separate group they could foresee needing to come home without the others. “We only have two people movers.” Eponine said, a little confused.

“If we all want to stay out, say to drink, while you and Gavroche come back, this way if you want to head to the shop or- I think there’s an arcade in the housing estate- you don’t have to worry about getting back in.”

“There are also shuttles and things that go to Disneyland if we want to go at different times,” Courfeyrac said, “Just because me and ‘Ferre are going at 9 every morning doesn’t mean you all have to!”

“We’re going at nine every day?” Combeferre asked, bemused, sighing at the enthusiastic head-nodding he received as a response. 

“We’ve got coffee on that list, right?” He said, stretching, and then unlocked the house.

The rush of chill from the air conditioning was more than a pleasant surprise, and immediately a surge of his friends knocked him into the room as they ran about, some searching for their rooms, some flinging open the door to the garage-turned-games-room, some heading straight for a sofa to flop on, underneath the spinning of a ceiling fan. Bousset pushed open the doors to the pool and Gavroche ran straight past him, taking a running leap into the water.

“Gavroche! You’re dressed!” Eponine shrieked, dropping Cosette’s bag she had so nicely offered to carry for her and sprinting outside.

Cosette giggled, lifting the bag with ease, and patting Combeferre’s shoulder, “And to think we’ve got another two weeks of this.”

Combeferre smiled wanly, sighed and went to check out how big the fridge was. 

The house was open-plan, with the entrance way giving into a small lounge area, from which you could see the games room and sit to read or work, leading into the kitchen, dining and actual lounge. The kitchen was marked only by the tiles that cut into the carpet, and came with a large fridge/freezer, a large hob and a microwave, coffee machine and dishwasher. Attached to one end of the counters was a bar with five stools, overlooking a huge dining set built for fourteen. Each chair very slightly differing in design, though all modern. To the left of this as you came in was a much larger living-room, with a moderately sized television set, complete with a DVD player and what seemed to be a Wii. The sofas looked as if they could fit ten people comfortably, being a larger sofa flanked by smaller ones, and the carpet was certainly thick enough that some of their members could find it quite comfortable. 

The room overlooked the pool, separated by a pair of gigantic sliding doors, and as those who wished to left through this way, they revealed a set of sunbeds- six, with a stack of white plastic chairs in the corner and a folded dining set- shaded by the upper floor. The pool was curved and large, and clear, and now had a very self-satisfied Gavroche floating in it. “It’s warm!” he called to his fuming sister. 

Leaving them to it, two hallways separated bedrooms and bathrooms from the main room, though neither had doors, just a wall to create this privacy. On one side was a bathroom, a door leading to the back-yard, and a large bedroom with three single beds- to be pushed into one for Joly, Bousset and Musichetta. Since this side had the games room, there was no room for any more bedrooms. 

On the other side, where Courfeyrac had darted into instantly, were three slightly smaller bedrooms, two with en-suites belonging to Combeferre & Courfeyrac and Enjolras respectively, and a slightly larger but en-suiteless room for Jehan and Grantaire. There was a polite argument over first choice of bed, before finally Grantaire let Jehan have their way and chose the bed he thought Jehan would like less, making the other smile and throw their suitcase down with a smile.

Upstairs were three rooms and two bathrooms, two with double-beds and one with single beds. These belonged to Cosette & Marius, Bahorel & Feuilly and Eponine & Gavroche, and they overlooked the street. Upstairs seemed, from below, larger than the first floor, but because it was set back into the building it was around the same size. The staircase came down just above the kitchen, and the upstairs hallway was visible from most points of the ground floor. A large chandelier-esque light tempted Bahorel to leap from the top hallway, but common sense stopped him. For now. The hallway led to a bathroom each side, narrow, and these overlooked the pool, creating a thin square frame under the ceiling. 

“Attention!” Combeferre announced from the middle of the room, “In half an hour or so we will be heading to the supermarket, we’re taking one car so who’s in?”

“The Adults should go,” Feuilly said, “By that I mean the rest of the adults should go and I’m gonna relax by the pool.” He flicked his sunglasses back down, whistling, and went outside the door. The Adults as a phrase had come to mean himself, Cosette, Enjolras, Combeferre and Musichetta. 

Bahorel offered a peace sign, backing out to the pool-side, where he tried- and failed- to push his boyfriend into the pool.

“Alright,” Courfeyrac said, “So there’s room for seven in the car but we’re getting groceries so-“

“I’ll come with you,” Enjolras said, “I have the list.”

“Great so there’s room for four more in the-“

“I’ll come along, we’ve all got allergies,” Musichetta said, then grabbed Grantaire’s arm, “R’ll come with to help pick the alcohol.”

“Is that all I’m good for?”

“Pretty much,” She said, then kissed his cheek. 

“Great, anyone else want to come?” 

“I want to see an American Supermarket,” Cosette said, “Marius will you stay and unpack?”

“Yes Cosette,” Marius said, a little breathless, as he always was whenever she spoke to him directly, “I’ll get us the prettiest room upstairs.”

“Thank you,” Cosette sang, heading to the door.

“Isn’t Jehan coming?” Grantaire asked, and their friend looked up from where they were taking a selfie with the room.

“Oh! Yes!” they grinned.

“Feuilly has a key, yeah?” Enjolras asked, shutting the door behind them.

“They’re not going anywhere,” Grantaire replied, as splashing echoed around the otherwise quiet estate. 

/// ~ ///

The Winn-Dixie supermarket was a six minute drive from the Emerald Island villas, and Enjolras made a note to walk next time, after this bulk-buy. 

“They do Ice Cream cakes here!” Courfeyrac half-yelled, laughing carelessly when Combeferre shushed him.

“What’s an ice cream cake?” Jehan asked, their hand coming to rest on R’s arm, hyper aware of the amount of cars in the carpark, and the amount of strangers in the world at the moment.

“It’s something the americans do,” Grantaire replied, “I think the base is cake and the top is ice cream.”

“We should get one for Courf’s birthday,” Jehan said, as they passed into the cool of the store. 

The supermarket was unlike anything they’d seen before. Food towered above them, bulk packaged and huge- and the aisle of poptarts made Courfeyrac squeal and Combeferre grimace. “We have to buy enough to take back with us! There’s so many flavours!”

They were in the frozen section when Grantaire and Jehan took Enjolras aside, Courfeyrac distracted by the many different flavoured hot pockets, “Hey, Apollo. We’re thinking of getting Courf an ice-cream cake made for his birthday.”

Enjolras blinked a few times, then smiled, eyes darting to meet Grantaire’s for a few moments, “What a lovely idea,” he said, then looked to Jehan, “Wasn’t the bakery near the front?”

“Yes,” Jehan said, glancing at Grantaire, “I can keep Courfeyrac occupied long enough for you two to go get it ordered. I think you can do that.”

Enjolras nodded, much to Grantaire’s surprise, “Good idea. Come on Grantaire.” 

“Oh i-“ Grantaire gave a desperate look at Jehan, who winked god damn them, and ran over to where the others were, “Have you guys seen the eggs in cartons over there?”

Enjolras was already heading towards the front of the shop, his pony-tail whipping behind him as he ducked into the next aisle. Keeping his eyes firmly on the plaid of Enjolras’ patented folded-sleeved-shirt, and firmly NOT anywhere lower, Grantaire made his pursuit, not entirely sure why his involvement was necessary. 

“It needs to be garish,” Enjolras said, over his shoulder, then slowed down to wait for Grantaire to match his pace. 

“Of course,” he said, a little overwhelmed, then tried to force himself to see Enjolras as an actual human being for a second, “And with Disney characters.”

Enjolras smiled, “Of course. Or-“ he stopped, suddenly, taking Grantaire’s arm in his, “Wait. We should put a photograph of us on it.”

“Us?” Grantaire said dumbly, then realised Enjolras didn’t mean the two of them, “Oh yes- how about that photo the lady took at the airport?”

“I was thinking,” and Enjolras glanced around somewhat mischeviously, his fingers a burning presence on Grantaire’s arm, “Maybe we come back here tomorrow with the photograph we take at the Magic Kingdom by the castle. He’d love that.”

Grantaire nodded, “Good idea, How will we do that without Courf noticing?” 

Enjolras let go of him to fold his arms in thought, and on reflex Grantaire almost reached to grab his hand back, “When the others go to the bar tomorrow, you say you left your wallet at the house, and I’ll drive us.”

“Good idea,” Grantaire said, already nervous at the thought of spending more time alone with the man he was desperately trying to get over, “Sure.”

“Great!” Enjolras said, smiled, then patted his shoulder, “Come on, let’s go back to the others.”

“Okay,” said Grantaire, though he wanted to say, “Or we could just run away together.”

They returned to the others, for the walk back their shoes clacking against the linoleum the only sound, a comfortable silence between them. 

/// ~ ///

Eponine had long since given up on three things; Marius choosing her over Cosette, winning her parents’ approval, and not drinking when she was sad. One thing she hadn’t given up on, however, was trying to get her brother to listen to and respect her.

“Gavroche you have ten seconds to get out of that pool and into a swim suit or I swear to GOD.” She said, standing at the edge of the water, doc martens feeling strangely hot and heavy for where she was. 

Gavroche, now doing a mocking sort of backstroke, stuck his tongue out at her. She grimaced at the soaked jeans and shirt, thinking about the small amount of clothes they owned, and how she’d have to do washing the first night so he had jeans to wear if he wanted. “You little shit,” she muttered, under her breath, then began to count aloud, “ONE.” 

Gavroche laughed. “TWO.” She said, then began to untie her shoes, as calculating as she could make herself look, “THREE”

Gavroche grinned, “What’re you gonna do? Get in with me? Ruin your clothes?”

Eponine ignored him, “FOUR. FIVE.” She tied her hair up into a messy bun above her head, revealing the shaved undersides,, “SIX.” 

Gavroche looked a little concerned now, as he always did around this point. “SEVEN.”

She put her boots neatly to one side and rolled up her sleeves, “EIGHT. NINE. Do not make me say Ten.”

Gavroche gave a little yelp, much to the hidden delight of his sister and the open delight of those observing, and climbed out the pool, “OKAY OKAY I’ll go get my trunks.” 

“Go to the nearest bathroom, I’ll bring them to you.” Eponine said, not wanting him to get water anywhere unnecessarily, “Thank god the floors aren’t carpet.” 

“Nicely done,” Bahorel said, from where he now stood by the pool, looking past the fence towards the body of water Gavroche had been scared of earlier, not half a mile from their house. The houses on either side weren’t as large as theirs, so their back-yard yielded only views of the far reaches of those fences, and it seemed the houses weren’t occupied at present. Or at least, there was no noise coming from either. A large expanse of grass led to the water, and at first glance the idea of taking a picnic there seemed inviting, before he remembered it was mainly swampland, and alligators resided within the depths. “I hope we see a Gator or two.” He said, to himself, as the rest of his friends had since returned inside to unpack and/or get changed into their swimsuits. 

He wondered, briefly, if he would end up drunk wrestling one. He hoped to god he wouldn’t. Feuilly would kill him if the alligator didn’t. 

He went back inside, once again a little surprised by the burst of cold air that seemed to come with entering buildings in this place, and to his room, where Feuilly was unpacking his suitcase.. “Hey babe, need help?” he smiled, and received one in return, 

“Sure, can you put the underwear in one of those drawers please?” 

Bahorel nodded, stooping to grab as many socks and pants as he could, turning around. Their room was the same as the standard rooms in the house; a double-bed with a dark, slightly curving headboard and beige/white sheets, and a white built-in wardrobe to match the white plastic blinds. Theirs overlooked the front of the house, being on the top floor, as the hallway overlooked the rest of the house below. A fan rotated gently above them as they unpacked, and changed, feeling much more comfortable with the heat in their swimming costumes than they had in jeans. 

In the room beside theirs Marius had unpacked, folding most of his clothes neatly and hanging the rest up, alongside everything Cosette had brought save her underwear and pyjamas just in case she didn’t want them folded. 

When he was finished he changed into his swimming trunks, a nice shade of blue that matched Cosette’s swimsuit, and a matching cap and tank-top, slathering his freckled face and arms in suncream and then, on consideration, his legs too. Feuilly, a similar complexion to him, came in after a little while to help him apply it on his back and the three of them headed downstairs, stopping only to let a very frazzled Eponine head upstairs to unpack, Gavroche’s sodden clothes in her arms. 

Joly, Bousset and Gavroche were having a cannon-ball contest when they reached the pool, loud and fiercely competitive, it seemed. “Need a judge?” Marius offered? After Bahorel and Feuilly both whooped at the idea. 

“Perfect!” Gavroche yelled, climbing out the pool, “I’m going first!” and he ran to the other side of the pool, readying himself.

Marius took a seat on one of the plastic chairs, carrying it towards the pool, just into the sunlight, “Go!” he said, as officially as possible, and Gavroche splashed into the water, to the cheers of the others around him. 

“Hmm.” Marius said, pretending to think hard about it, “I have no point of reference but that was a pretty big splash!” and then, in english, “EIGHT!”

Gavroche, looking pleased with himself, hoisted himself onto the opposite end of the pool, ready for the other contestants. 

“You’re counting me in, too, right?” Eponine asked, standing hands on hips in the doorway. She was now wearing her bikini, a simple black piece that showed off her shoulder-to-hip-ratio (and also her bust/abs, not that she’d ever admit that.) Marius felt a little bit blushy, then gestured for her to join the line.

“Of course, ‘Ponine.” He said, and made a mental note to avoid that sort of thing, feeling guilty about Cosette.

/// ~ ///

“I’m telling you, both is a viable option,” Musichetta said, reaching up for a box of cereal, the one that looked the least sugar-coated.

Cosette smiled, a little awkwardly, “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, looking up at her much taller friend, taking the box from her and putting it into their trolley. They’d split from the boys to cover more ground, and also to try and stop Courfeyrac paying for everything. They appreciated that he had more money than they did, but that was hardly the point. 

Musichetta smiled, putting a finger to her nose, pristine purple nail-varnish matching her h, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I’ve seen you looking at her.”

Cosette blushed, “I- I- let’s not talk about this.” 

Musichetta laughed, pulling her into a hug, “It’s alright darling, I won’t tell a soul. But take it from me,” and she began to walk forward again, one arm behind her to guide the trolley Cosette pushed, “It’s not awkward at all after you start it.”

Cosette smiled a little, to herself, because this girl knew her so well, then hugged Musichetta from behind, arms around her friend’s neck, “I love you, Chetta.”

“I love you too, Courgette.” She grinned, then chucked a pack of biscuits at her, “Let’s hurry up and finish before the boys do.” 

/// ~ ///

It was around two pm when they returned, sweaty and exhausted from the supermarket, and the sun was high and sweltering in the sky. Marius was inside fetching glasses of water for the rest, bare footed but, thankfully, dry. Gavroche lounged across the sofa, trying to fight off sleep he had evaded for so long. Eponine, Feuilly and Bahorel were now lying on three sun-beds in the shade, Feuilly reading, the others audibly snoring. Bousset and Joly were nowhere to be seen, presumably in their room. 

“I can’t wait to get in that pool,” Cosette said, helping to carry the bags to the kitchen side and kissing Marius’ sun-kissed face, “You remembered your suncream,” she said, pulling a face. 

He laughed, “Of course. I’m ginger, ‘Sette.” 

“I’m gonna go get changed, then hop into the pool.” She said, stretching and heading up the stairs. 

“Me too,” Enjolras said, making Grantaire, who was standing beside him, start a little. He turned to him, a little concerned, “You alright?”

“YEP.” Grantaire replied, “Sorry didn’t realise you were there.” He said, meaning “I didn’t realise you wouldn’t flee from me as soon as possible.” 

Combeferre sat at the kitchen table, withdrawing the Master Itinerary Courfeyrac had helped him to draw up. “For all those interested, it’s a fairly early start tomorrow, so go easy on the beers.” 

“I’m gonna nap before I drink, don’t worry.” Grantaire said, heading to the pool-side, where he dragged a sun-bed up beside Eponine’s. 

“We had a cannon ball contest while you were gone,” Feuilly told him, “Eponine won, of course.”

“I was robbed.” Bahorel said, “The Feminists are taking over!” he half-yelled, laughing at their faces, ducking as Musichetta’s hand swiped above his head. 

“Where are my boyfriends anyway?”   
“Oh, they’re inside,” Feuilly said, “Showering I think.” 

“Perfect,” she grinned, slinking away.

“Don’t shag in the group shower!” Grantaire yelled after her, making her cackle. It was not a reassuring sound, if he thought about it, so he didn’t.

It took all of two minutes before Courfeyrac came sprinting out of the house, diving into the pool with a cheer. Enjolras followed him, in his shorts, sunglasses on, hair tied up into a low bun, a content smile on his face. Grantaire, whose heart, he was fairly sure, had just stopped, lay back in his sun-bed, trying to be indifferent to the sight. Enjolras stretched a little, before following suit into the pool, shaking the water out his hair when he resurfaced.

“Hot damn,” Bahorel said, a stage-whisper, making Enjolras laugh.

“Hey everyone!” Cosette said, hair in two little buns on top of her head, in a baby blue bikini, the bottom half made to look like a skirt, “Grab an inflatable and get blowing please!”

She threw down the packets they had bought at the supermarket, and all those on the sun-beds (even Eponine, after Grantaire nudged her awake) and the two in the pool, now hanging off the edge, obeyed. There were four lilos, two rainbow coloured and simple, one large enough for two to lie on or four to sit, and one shaped like a large chair. Also in the mix; a large beach ball, a large inflatable alligator and an inflatable doughnut that was already being fought over by Gavroche and Courfeyrac

By four o’clock most of them were napping or reclining somewhere. Enjolras and Cosette occupied the large lilo, both reading and taking plenty of Instagram-worthy selfies. Grantaire was having a beer in the doughnut, chatting to Joly who was sun-bathing on one of the other lilos. Combeferre sat with his feet in the pool, chatting to Courfeyrac who leant against the side, kissing occasionally, splashing one another more often. 

Musichetta reclined on another lilo, pretending not to have noticed Bousset who was trying to sneak up on her to tip her off it. Gavroche, who had woken up from his nap with more energy than any of them had after a full night’s sleep, played football with the beach-ball, his goal to get it past Eponine on one end of the patio and Bahorel on the other. 

Feuilly and Marius sat in the shade doing crosswords. Jehan, who had been asleep in their room for a while, now stood at the edge of the fence with binoculars, trying to see the lake better. “We could walk down one day,” they suggested, then removed their crop top, climbing into the water and lifting themselves onto a lilo. 

“You can, you lunatic,” Grantaire said, finishing his beer and chucking it into the bucket Eponine had brought outside not ten minutes ago, declaring that it was the Booze Bucket and all booze-related rubbish should go in there for better recycling. 

“It’ll be fun, R.” Jehan grinned, adjusting their ridiculous sun-hat and lying back to look at the sky. 

“It’ll all be fun and games until someone loses a leg to a dinosaur.” Was the response, and Jehan giggled. 

“I love all animals, R. Not just the cute ones.” 

“Maybe that’s not a great thing, babe,” Musichetta said, then shrieked as she was tipped into the water. 

“Bousset!! You dick!” she squealed, leaping onto her boyfriend’s shoulders and pushing him under water, cackling manically as she went with him. Joly, laughing, sat up on his, feet in the water, and took a photo with the water-proof camera hanging around his neck. The amis had pitched in to buy it for him for this holiday, and because he had started to go scuba-diving recently. It was one of the only physical activities he could do for an extended period of time, and his underwater photography had become fantastic. Musichetta had already framed three of his photos in their home.

“Don’t think you’re safe!” Bousset warned him, “Don’t take another photo of me struggling.”

“Get him, Chetta,” Joly said, laughing and trying to kick Bousset as he tried to drag Joly off the lilo. 

Enjolras smiled, then turned to look at Grantaire, who glanced away quickly after meeting his eyes. Trying not to think too much into it, he set his gaze back into his book, but found himself quite unable to focus. As per usual, after seeing Grantaire. He sighed turning to Cosette, “I don’t like this book very much.” It was only a little bit of a lie; he wasn’t particularly engaged with it so far, but that might not have been the book’s fault.

Cosette smiled, as she always did, “I have plenty you can borrow.” 

“I may take you up on that,” he said, “I don’t know why I just brought the one.” 

“Because you have better things to be doing this holiday,” she said, then returned her gaze to her book, smirking, “Or people to be doing.”

Enjolras splashed her, then got out of the pool, “Anyone want some lemonade?”

“Vodka and lemonade?” Musichetta asked from her precarious balance on both Joly and Bousset’s shoulders, grinning for the photo Courfeyrac took with Joly’s camera. 

“If you like.” Enjolras smiled.

“Then yes!” she giggled, falling backwards into the water.

“Me too!” came Jehan, Eponine, Cosette and Courfeyrac’s voices, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll make a pitcher for you alcoholics.” He said, watching Eponine down her beer and deflect the beach ball at the same time. 

He went inside, making sure he was dried enough first, before shuffling through the house, bare feet on top of a towel, to the kitchen. When he had disappeared, Jehan nudged Grantaire with his foot, “Go help him in the kitchen.”

“Erm no. that’d be weird, and above all helpful- I am not a helpful person.” Grantaire said, pretending, out of ease, to be lazy rather than anxious. Jehan rolled their eyes and nudged him again, making Grantaire glare at their anklet, “No, Jehan.” 

“Ugh whatever,” they said, leaning back into their lilo, “You won’t get anywhere sitting here.”

Grantaire grimaced, and asked Eponine to toss him another beer. 

/// ~ ///

The rest of the night was spent eating copious amounts of takeaway pizza and watching trash American TV. It was glorious. The original plan had been to stay up a little late playing drinking games and whatnot, but the jet lag had caught up to most of them by then, and one by one they turned in, wearing the least amount of clothes to bed as possible. The heat in Florida in August, it seemed, didn’t really go away with the sun as Musichetta had warned.

Combeferre yawned, stripping down to his boxers (also Disney themed, with little mickey mouse silhouettes on them) and lying on top of the covers, wiping sweat from his brow. Courfeyrac, who had a lot more hair than his boyfriend, pouted at his reflection in the mirror, trying to tame the lion’s mane he had on top of his head into a hairband, to keep it from sticking to his face and neck. After a few minutes he gave up, falling into bed with a relieved groan. 

“It’s so fucking hot,” he said, crawling over to lie on Combeferre’s chest.

“And yet you lay on me anyway.” Combeferre said, affection heavy in his voice.

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac said, seemingly not seeing the problem, “I love you.” 

Combeferre grinned- that phrase from Courfeyrac still sounded too good to be true- and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead. He had to stop himself from asking the question he planned to ask on the last day of the holiday, just because he was desperate to know and loved Courfeyrac too much to bear in that moment. 

“We need to be ready for breakfast at 8:30 tomorrow.” He said, “Will you be ready for that?”

“Sure,” Courfeyrac said, “I’m already sleepy.” 

“Good.” He replied, then after a little while of shifting uncomfortably, laughed when Courfeyrac gave a groan and flopped off him, star-fishing in his boxers, one arm slapped across his boyfriend’s chest.

“It’s too hottttt” he whined, then after a few minutes, fell asleep. Combeferre had never understood how he did that, but boy did he envy him.

“How did nana survive in Kenya?” He thought, not for the first time in his life, rolling over in bed. His grandmother had told him that he was silly and far too French for a number of reasons, but his inability to deal with heat was the primary factor. After a little while, he got a little restless and thirsty, and got up. 

The hall was quiet when he carefully opened the door. Grantaire and Jehan’s door across the way was ajar, and he could hear soft snoring from both his friends within. Enjolras’ door was shut, but he could hear the faint sounds of pages turning, so he knocked quietly. 

After a few beats, Enjolras opened the door in a t-shirt and shorts, eyes tired but warm when he saw who was knocking, “Hello ‘Ferre,” he greeted, quietly, “Want to get a coffee?”

Combeferre nodded, knowing that Enjolras’ insomnia had been playing up at late, “I bought some decaf,” he said as they walked across the carpeted floor of the open-planned downstairs. 

“Good,” Enjolras said, stooping to pick up an ice-cream wrapper from the coffee-table and putting it in the bin as Combeferre put a mug in the coffee machine. 

“We should have packed a kettle.” He said, conversationally, and Enjolras nodded, stretching with a yawn. He poured himself a water from the 6litre bottle they’d bought at the supermarket so keep cool, and turned around to face his friend.

“It’s an early start tomorrow, so you should try to sleep if you can.” He said, not unkind but concerned, brows furrowing as Enjolras nodded.

“I slept a little on the plane I think.” He frowned, “Maybe. I slept a few days ago.”

Combeferre made a disapproving noise in his throat. 

Enjolras sighed and then smiled, “Maybe tomorrow will knock me out. I don’t want to take the sleeping tablets again if we’ve got an early start.”

“Alright,” his friend said, then smiled, “I’ll let you sleep in as long as possible tomorrow, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Enjolras laughed, gratefully taking the coffee from Combeferre, who was leaning on the counter across from him as he sat on a bar stool. 

“So,” Combeferre smiled, “You exited for tomorrow?”

“Actually,” Enjolras smiled, “yeah, I haven’t been to a theme park since I was fourteen. And at any rate, it’ll tire me out enough to sleep.”

Combeferre nodded, “Courfeyrac’s very excited, but I’m the one that can’t sleep. I guess I’ll be tired enough to balance out his energy tomorrow.”

“Oh god he’s going to be a nightmare,” Enjolras said, sipping his coffee, “Why can’t you sleep?”

“It’s too hot,” Combeferre said, then met his eyes, a mischevious kind of smile on his face, “And I’m nervous.” 

“Nervous?” 

“Yeah- I’m gonna ask Courf to marry me this holiday.” Combeferre said, looking a little anxious now.

Enjolras’ eyes widened in shock, then his mouth spread into a large smile of shock and excitement, “Really?” 

Combeferre smiled, sipping his coffee and nodding, “In the Magic Kingdom, on his birthday.”

“Oh ‘Ferre! he’ll love that.” Enjolras said, “When? Where?”

“I don’t know,” Combeferre said, and his eyes went soft, “I would say whenever the moment feels right but sometimes…” he paused, glancing up at Enjolras and going a little pink. On his friend’s encouragement, he laughed at himself, “I swear, every moment feels right with him.”

Enjolras smiled, a sad smile then, and Combeferre couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for his friend. He’d pined for so long for no reason; but telling him that had never worked. Encouraging him to go for it was exhausting and fruitless. For some reason he could never understand that Grantaire felt the same, no matter how many times the others assured him otherwise. “I know what you mean.” He said, and Combeferre groaned good-naturedly. 

“Just tell him, Enjolras.” He said, tipping the remains of his coffee down the sink. He kissed his friend’s forehead, pushing back a blonde curl, “Get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

As he went to bed Enjolras watched him leave, sighed and finished his coffee in the silence, closing his eyes and breathing in the calm before the storm. He knew Combeferre was right. He could at least move on if he told Grantaire- but what if it ruined their friendship? Or the holiday? 

But what if he does feel the same way? The little hopeful voice he struggled to keep at bay said in his head, and he shook it away, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the rational thought said over the but-we-could-kiss-in-front-of-the-castle-and-take-cute-couple-photos-and-i-would-buy-him-so-many-souveniers-and-we-could-come-back-and-sit-together-on-the-plane-and-he’d-probably-paint-me-and-i-could-introduce-him-to-people-as-my-boyfriend-and-then-eventually-we’d-move-in-together-and-get-married-and- “STOP” he muttered out loud, laughing a little at himself, “You’re ridiculous.” 

He paused, on the way to bed, outside of Grantaire and Jehan’s bedroom. The hallway was only about two or three foot wide- just enough for two people to pass one another with a little effort, and the doors were close together, so really it was outside all three rooms. But enjolras’ heart made him stop outside of the door Grantaire was behind, just for a moment. Then he sighed, shook his head, and went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments literally make me so happy, and write faster ;) But seriously if you enjoyed it please let me know, or any questions or whatever- or just leave kudos! I love it all!


	4. The Magic Kingdom part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! sorry i took so long to upload, i've started to DM for a d&d group and I didn't realise how much of my time would go into planning each session! :')

The heat had remained throughout the night. Eponine’s hair stuck to her forehead and neck, even as she lay underneath the fan in shorts and a tank top, spread-eagled on her bed. On the other side of the room Gavroche hurried to get into his trunks, need to be cool apparently pushed to one side by his enthusiasm for having a pool downstairs. “It’s six, Gavroche.” She said, yawning, “Can’t we sleep for just a little bit longer?”

A pillow hitting her face was the response she got, and a few seconds later a swimsuit hitting her stomach.

“Ugh fine.” She said, “Get out while I get changed.”

The rest of the house was dark, but the sliding door to the back porch was slightly open as they crept downstairs, the morning light filtering in from the upstairs windows and the door they were heading towards. 

Gavroche shrugged at her, turning around he walked, then crossed the living room to the back-yard, sliding the doors open (very loudly, Eponine grimaced and glanced a little nervously around the house) and peering into the seating area.

“R!” He half-yelled, making his sister shush him angrily, and ran outside. 

“What the fuck is Grantaire doing up?” Eponine wondered aloud, closing the door behind them. 

Grantaire was sat on the end of a sun-bed, dressed in shorts and the “Grumpy” shirt Courfeyrac had bought him for the holiday. His hair was as tousled as it always was in the mornings, and he wore a tired smile. In one hand he held a coffee, in the other a lit, slowly fading cigarette.

“Morning,” he said, and she replied in kind, ruffling his hair. 

She had tied her hair up into a ponytail, but had made no other efforts to look better, seeing no point in removing the sweat that covered her body until after her swim. Grantaire, on the other hand, had clearly showered- his hair was wet, not sweaty, and his skin was dry and non-shiny, as she was sure hers was. He had been up long enough to get ready for the day- Eponine smirked as she figured out why. 

“I see you’ve dressed up in case you run into someone handsome this morning,” she grinned, lowering herself into the pool. 

Grantaire smiled, closing his eyes and tilting his head to attempt nonchalance, “I have no idea to whom you refer.”

“Oh shut the fuck up” she laughed, turning around to splash Gavroche, who enthusiastically returned the favour.

Grantaire finished his cigarette, stubbing it out in an ashtray they’d been provided, with an American flag in the centre of course, and stretched, smiling fondly at the two playing in the pool. Eponine had been a close friend of his for only a relatively short while, since he’d met Marius four years ago, but it felt like they’d known each other for years. They lived together, now, in a small apartment in downtown Paris- just the three of them, while she studied as hard as she could and he worked two jobs to keep rent up. Originally she had worked full-time alongside Musichetta in the Musain, but once he found out why she was studying law, how much work she did outside of it to try and win the case for custody of her other siblings, who were not taken by the foster system as she and Gavroche had been from their disastrous parents, he had told her to stop. He enjoyed working at both the bakery (owned by Jean ValJean, Cosette’s father, which had coincidentally been how the two women had been reunited) and at the bar he did three shifts a week at, and money wasn’t exactly tight with her working weekends at the Musain as well.

It had, however, ensured he woke up as usual at five that morning, but c’est la vie. He smiled, standing and stretching, the soles of his feet warm against the relatively cool concrete that led to the pool, which would no doubt be scorching later despite being hidden from the sun. “One minute,” he said, quietly, sliding open the doors and heading inside.

There was almost no sound as he crept through the house to his room, careful not to open the door with too loud a noise for fear of waking up any of his neighbours. In his suitcase- still packed, at the foot of his bed- was a video camera, which he had brought along specifically for moments like this. He turned it on, smiling at the sleeping form of Jehan star-fished across their bed, their little mermaid pyjama shorts and tank top sticking to their pale skin like glue, making sure to catch the sight on camera before heading back out to the pool. They were racing one another to the other end of the pool. Laughing and half-yelling, so he shut the door and sat down, going to take a sip of his coffee and remembering it was finished with a huff. 

“R!” Eponine said, a little angry (as was a common state for her), “Do you have to film? I look like shit!”

“But if he couldn’t film when you look like shit” Gavroche interrupted, before Grantaire could respond, “He could never film!” 

As a rebuttal Eponine spat water at him, laughing as he squealed in protest. 

The sun had begun to rise over the hills below, illuminating the siblings in a gentle orange light, though the sky had been light since he had awoken that morning. Grantaire thought that maybe all this money for this holiday was worth it, if only just to feel so calm and see Eponine laugh like that. 

His calmness was greatly disturbed when the pool door slid open and a silently moving Enjolras took a seat on the sun-bed beside him, two cups of coffee in his hands. Unaware of how long he’d been filming but noting his arm had begun to ache, Grantaire blinked and put the camera down, taking the offered cup with only slight hesitation. 

“For me?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras said, smiling warmly, “Milk and one sugar, yeah?”

Grantaire swallowed, feeling a blush creep up his neck, “Y-yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem” Enjolras said, turning to watch the others with a dimpled smile. He seemed tired, but like Grantaire was dressed for the day. His hair had been pulled back into a pony-tail, its natural volume making it seem tied much higher on his skull than reality. He wore an outfit no doubt picked for him by Courfeyrac; demin shorts that were cuffed by his knees, and a t-shirt that had the phrase: THE MOUNTAINS ARE WAITING with “Space” “Splash” and “Big Thunder” written beneath. Enjolras was one of the few of them that had actually been to Disneyland as an adult, with Courfeyrac- though in Paris, so his knowledge was limited to a few rides. But he loved theme parks, Grantaire knew that much- they both did, it had been one of the discussions they could have at the beginning without arguing. “You excited for today?” he asked, clearly wanting a positive response.

“Of course,” Grantaire said, still focussing on the fact Enjolras knew his coffee order, “I’m excited to go on every single ride in the damn place.”

“Yeah- I loved Disney as a kid,” Enjolras said, then looked a little wistful, “My mum loved all the films so we watched them a lot. I grew up and dismissed it for a number of reasons, but it’s nice to let yourself feel nostalgic-“ seemingly suddenly aware Grantaire was looking at him, he laughed a little, “And I mean rides are rides anyway. It’ll be fun.” 

Grantaire looked at his phone. It was seven now, and the sun had risen. Or maybe Enjolras had just made it a little brighter out. 

/// 

Breakfast was made by Combeferre, Eponine and Joly- just some toasts with different jams- Courfeyrac remarked how sweet American jams were compared to French with delight, despite his friends’ slightly different opinions on the matter. 

Bousset and Bahorel were a little late to the party, blinking wearily as they were awoken at 8, with half an hour until leaving. Courfeyrac had insisted they needed to be there for the opening of the park, just this once, to see the opening show he’d listened to almost on repeat for the last few weeks. 

“Today’s gonna be a long one,” Combeferre said, “So everyone have a lot of coffee,” he placed the ready pot on the table and everyone’s hands grabbed for it- including a smaller pair Eponine swatted away. 

“It’ll be fun guys!” Courfeyrac grinned, met with excited cheers from most of the group. 

Musichetta, playing with the hem of her crop top (Disney font on the front reading PRINCESS) leant across the table to Courfeyrac, “What rides have we fast-passed today?”

“We have,” Courfeyrac grinned, “Haunted Mansion, Splash Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad!” 

“Ooh exciting!” she beamed, sticking her hands back in her black harem pants. She looked a vision today, with her brightly coloured coiled hair tucked under a black cap, and the black cropped top, white trainers matching the cursive across her chest. Her boyfriends were dressed equally stylishly, no doubt with her assistance. Joly wore a pair of navy shorts, converse and a short-sleeved lighter blue shirt, plain but smart. Bousset wore a pair of black shorts and a faded retro-style Disney t-shirt. Everyone not wearing a hat was wearing the ears Courfeyrac had got for them, though everyone was in agreement to wear them for photographs. 

“What’s a fast pass?” Gavroche asked, from where he was upside down on the sofa.

“It means we get to go in the shorter queue for some bigger rides, it comes with the tickets.” Eponine said, grabbing him by the feet and pulling him off the furniture.

“So are we all ready?” Enjolras asked, at the doorway, sunglasses on, a carefree grin on his face. 

“Let’s go!” 

////

Their cars followed one another the short distance to the parks. Combeferre and Cosette were driving, on the agreement that he didn’t have to drink later and that one of the other girls would drive the girls back to the house- having decided for Eponine’s sake that Gavroche’s night’s rest would let them have a girls’ night in rather than result in her babysitting while they had fun.

“9:30 is not late,” Gavroche said.

“9:30 is when the park closes, Gav. If we get the boat back it’ll be at least 10 before we even get to the car.” Eponine said, from her spot beside Cosette as they pulled out onto the highway.

“10:30 is not Late.” Gavroche said, knowing he’d already lost the argument. 

“You know you’re just lucky we’re not heading in at 7, that’s when the ticket centre opens.” Enjolras said, leaning against the window. Marius, who sat in the middle of him and Grantaire, pulled a scrunched face Eponine found unreasonably cute.

“I’m glad we managed to reign Courf in a little.” He said, voice fond.

“Let him have his fun,” Grantaire laughed, “If we have to be up at 5 everyday for two weeks, so be it.”

There was a slight disagreement- but only just. “We have to be there for 5 to 9 to catch the beginning of this… ceremony yes?” Jehan asked from the back.

“Yeah” Enjolras said, “It’s a little dancing thing I think. Something cheesy and American, so Courf will love it.”

“Where are the bathrooms?” Gavroche muttered, practicing his English, “Where are the bathrooms?”

“Restrooms, here.” Eponine said with a smile. 

“Thanks, I hate it.”

////

It hadn’t been long when they passed under a large sign that stretched the width of the road, brightly coloured and a sight that made Courfeyrac tear up. “I’m so excited!” he half-yelled, making those in his car laugh and whoop with delight. 

“Smile,” Grantaire said, video camera capturing the group’s excitement, laughing when Courfeyrac mimed crying with happiness.

They had to park and get a monorail into the Magic Kingdom, which frankly felt a little bit like they were entering another country, not just a theme park. Bousset, carrying Joly’s wheelchair while his boyfriend used his crutches, pulled a face at the idea of waiting in a line just to get a train to then wait in another line, but on seeing Musichetta’s excited face as she gasped, “I remember this!” he decided to keep his reservations to himself. 

“I hope today won’t be a transformer day,” Joly said, quietly, as they made their way up the stairs, a little slower than the others who, save for Courfeyrac and Gavroche who had began to run up the slope towards the monorail station, stopped every so often to give them time to catch up.

“It won’t be.” Bousset assured, then said, only half-joking, “And even if it is, you know I’ll push you all day.” 

Joly, despite having dated Bousset for years and as such having heard much more romantic and sappy things from his boyfriend, blushed furiously, and walked a little closer to Bousset as they continued, “Thank you.”

///

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN PLEASE CONTINUE TO MOVE ACROSS YOUR CAR TO MAKE ROOM FOR EVERYONE, AND KINDLY MAKE ROOM FOR THOSE WHO NEED SPECIAL ASSISTANCE.” The American recording sounded, and a mother pulled her daughter out the way as Bousset set Joly’s wheelchair down. He grinned at them, “Thank you! How kind” in his best English, and she smiled politely. 

“So when we get into the Magic Kingdom we’ll watch the Good Morning Main Street parade then take photos by the castle,” Coufeyrac said, as if he hadn’t multiple times that morning. 

Combeferre nodded, then suddenly grabbed his boyfriend’s shoulders, “Look, you can see the castle” and he pointed behind Courfeyrac where, sure enough, the famous Magic Kingdom castle was beginning to come into view. 

Excitement began to curl in their chests, despite their tired state and, in some cases, fairly cynical views. Cosette, standing by the window, pressed her hands up on the glass, eyes wide and bright, an open-mouthed smile of wonder spreading across her delicate features. She wore high-waisted denim shorts and a bright yellow t-shirt with a glitter sillouhette of that very castle today, with matching white-and-yellow long socks and white trainers. Beside her, as usual, Marius was dressed to match, in jean shorts and a white shirt of the same design. He turned his hat around so that he could lean in with her to look at the castle, careful not to rub any of his pre-applied suncream onto her new shirt. 

Eponine, who had her arm slung around Gavroche as casually as she could, suddenly imagined being dressed to match Cosette all the time. I would look ridiculous, she thought, laughing to herself as the couple took yet another selfie- and yet so does Marius, and you think he looks great. Her brother, still trying to look grown up, was attempting to subtly peer out the windows, grinning when he thought nobody could see.

Grantaire and Jehan stood close to them, careful not to restrict Gavroche’s view. Jehan’s outfit was reserved, for them, but still flamboyant: a sequinned crop top with “MERMAID” written across the chest, and white shorts that couldn’t be fully associated with one gender or the other, for fear of causing too much controversy in their outfit. Their sunhat was poking Grantaire in the face as he lifted the video camera to capture their approach to the castle, a lazy smile on his face. 

Enjolras smiled fondly as Courfeyrac literally jumped for joy, throwing his arms around Courfeyrac, and turned his attention to the man he always seemed to be turning his attention to, waving as Grantaire mimed filming him with an old-fashioned film camera, rotating his arm by the side of the device. “You’re an idiot,” he said, fondly, too fondly for his liking, and quickly turned to look at the castle. 

Bahorel, who had until now been chatting to a little boy about Gaston, who the boy was “99.999999% sure” Bahorel was, took a moment to appreciate how calm Feuilly looked as the monorail began to slow into the final stop, their destination. It wasn’t often he saw him relaxed like this, his hair tied into a loose bun, wearing comfortable clothes, not about to or just home from work- and he was beginning to adore the sight. He pulled Feuilly into a side-hug as they dismounted the monorail and made their way with the crowd towards the gates of the magic kingdom, blowing a raspberry on his cheek and making the other man laugh and grimace at the same time. 

They made it just in time for the parade. Dozens of dancers dressed to fit the setting of Mainstreet USA (“an ideal turn of the century American town”) performed atop the entrance, designed to look like an in-era train station as hundreds of guests watched on in varying levels of interest. Cosette, starry eyed, declared “I’m gonna make us all outfits like this!” 

The walk towards the castle was overwhelming, the scent of vanilla in the air mingling with toffee from the sweet shops, coffee from the stands and popcorn from the venders, as they made their way past shops already bustling, styled like an old fashioned tailors, an ice-cream parlour and barbers. Musichetta took photos of the sweets in the window, all manners of confectionary, from toffee apples to giant boxes of candyfloss (or cotton candy), to the tiniest and most delicate artisan chocolates and pastries on display. “We have to buy everything!” she said, Cosette nodding emphatically beside her. 

The castle stood before them now, tall and, for many of them, awe-inspiring. Courfeyrac wiped a tear from his eye before calling over a professional photographer, “Please please please take as many photos of us as you like!”

The first, a group pose. All smiles, arms around one another. Cheesy.

The second, another group pose. A “silly one now!” as requested by the photographer, a portly man in his 40s with a bright, cheesy smile. Courf was lifted by Combeferre and Enjolras, peace signs and tongue sticking out. Gavroche pulled a face that could only be described as hideous. Musichetta and Cosette jumped, holding hands, as Marius and Eponine leant back-to-back, James Bond style. Bahorel and Grantaire gave one another noogies and Feuilly gave Jehan a piggy back and Joly and Bousset mimicked the V-J Day in Times Square photograph at the end. 

The third, just Courfeyrac and Combeferre. Combeferre kissed his grinning boyfriend on the temple, trying to avoid the temptation to propose right there and then.

The fourth, Joly, Bousset and Musichetta, who posed with both men kissing her cheeks while she grinned, positively glowing. 

For the fifth, Marius insisted that Eponine and Gavroche join them for a “Family photo”, ignoring the nervous giggle from Cosette and the frown of confusion from Eponine. Gavroche, oblivious to whatever dynamic was developing, tried to sneak in a rude gesture, but was stopped by his sister’s tight grip on his shoulder. 

For the sixth, Feuilly and Bahorel took a decent, sensible photograph- which Bahorel ruined by doing bunny ears over Feuilly’s head. 

The seventh, and Grantaire lifted Jehan in a princess carry, his friend fake-swooning in his arms, making the rest of the group laugh. 

“You can get those printed at the end of the day.” The photographer assured them, and suddenly the day was theirs. The same surge of excitement they’d experienced on the monorail seemed to appear again, and Courfeyrac practically skipped as he led them to Adventureland. 

The park was comprised of several themed “lands”, in which were different rides, scenery, ambiance music, scents in the air and characters. Courf had described each to them, but many of them were not prepared for how immersive the experience was. They hadn’t expected to smell river water as they waited outside of the ride called Jungle Cruise, for example. 

“This place is crazy,” Grantaire muttered to himself, jumping when a far too familiar voice replied,

“Tell me about it.” Enjolras had that strange look on his face again, from this morning. It was warm, and soft. Grantaire whipped his head around to look away so fast he could have hurt himself. 

Even the line for this ride had a soundtrack. Wild animal noises, along with 1920s-style-radio, complete with grainy-quality swing songs, and an “announcer” who kept the guests “updated” on the situation with the boats, setting the scene for a visit to a foreign jungle in the past. 

“We know that communicating in the jungle can be difficult at times,” the voice spoke above the chatter in the crowd, “So we like to pass on warm greetings from one skipper to another.” 

“Isn’t it great how they set the tone of each ride like this?” Musichetta said to him, “Wait till we get to the haunted mansion. That shit’s creepy.”

“No it’s not,” Gavroche said, “It’s for babies.”

Musichett quirked an eyebrow, “Okay, I’ll remember you said that later.”

“Life would be sunny, with plenty of money and youuuu” sang the old-american-voiced-recording, as Combeferre watched his boyfriend take photos of the line props, chatting constantly to him. Combeferre could only watch him fondly and nod along, too content to do so to interrupt his excited monologue. 

The ride consisted of a very large boat going slowly around a river, and so they could all get on together. Grantaire began to film as the boat curved its way along the path, the Disney “skipper” describing their totally-legit-rescue-mission-for-a-totally-real-boat as they went through a waterfall (Cosette laughing as Eponine was particularly splashed), saw animatronic rhinos and elephants (“Are they real?” “Yes, Gavroche, those animals sitting less than a foot away from our ride full of loud tourists are real” “Wow!”) and hurried away from imminent threats (“Is it racist to have a tribe attack you with spears?” “Are you saying, my dear Enjolras, that you wouldn’t gladly attack a boat full of white people with spears?” “Good point, R.”). 

The heat of the day was beginning to take hold as they stood in line for Aladdin’s Magic Carpets, which was one of the only rides in the area to not be completely self-contained. It was a little more exciting than the last one, lifting small cars into the air and spinning, but still a fairly docile ride. Gavroche began to complain that he was too hot, and Eponine promised she’d buy him a small fan at the nearest shop if he could behave for this ride. 

They piled into the cars, thankfully on the same ride. Grantaire sat beside Jehan, who, although they loved theme parks and rides, had a bit of nerves around heights, and wanted to hold his hand. It didn’t stop him teasing Enjolras though, who was sat in the back of the car in front, by saying “Apollo. Apollo. Apollo” over and over until Enjolras turned around and told him to fuck off in French, sticking his tongue out at the camera, just as the ride set off and Grantaire hurriedly put it back in his bag.

Cosette cosied up beside Musichetta, whooping with delight as their car went up and down, racing Grantaire et al’s car to do so, moving much more than the other guest’s cars with little children. 

As they disembarked, Combeferre checked his wrist-watch, “We still have a few hours before Splash Mountain’s fastpass so we could do the pirates of the Caribbean, the line’s only 30 minutes.”

“Only 30 minutes?” Gavroche said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Cosette grinned at him,

“Yeah but it’s 30 minutes of being in the world of pirates! Trust me you’ll love it!” 

They were grateful for the shade provided by the Pirates of the Caribbean line, and even more so when Courfeyrac handed out what he called “iconic” Disney misters/fans, which could spray a light breeze of water over your face while a little plastic fan whirled warm air on your face (which was better than the humid, still, air around them.)

As the line shuffled a few steps closer to the entrance of the building, the smell of salt water hit their noses, and Gavroche looked a little less bored, craning his neck to try and see over the crowd into the room beyond. Music had begun to filter from the front of the line, low and eerie- and a shiver of excitement ran through the group. As they finally made their way into the rest of the ride queue, themed to look like a prison for pirates, like in the movie, complete with low lights shaped like lanterns, huge barrels and ropes to divide the line, and walls which had been cleverly made to look like weathered, old stone (though when Grantaire touched one and it was cold, real stone it gave him a slight shock). Bars separated the crowd from mannequins that resembled inmates, some drinking, some with their hands on the bars, each one more haggard than the last. 

As they passed a certain point in the line, it grew darker, and the building opened up into a huge cavernous room comprising of long, curving slopes, the only illuminations being frequent lanterns, lit with electricity but flickering nonetheless as if candles were inside the glass. The ambiance now included crickets, and it took them a moment to process that they weren’t actually outside, that the darkness in the sky was engineered. “It’d be cool to come out into darkness from this ride,” Enjolras said to Combeferre who nodded,

“I think there are certain rides you should do at night-time. I suppose it doesn’t matter for this one.”

“I wonder if we’ll see Orlando Bloom on this ride,” Courfeyrac interrupted, grinning at Enjolras suggestively. His friend rolled his eyes, hoping that the darkness would obscure his knowing-what-was-about-to-happen blush, “Enjolras would LOVE that,” Courf continued, a little louder so the group could hear, “He’s had a crush on Orlando Bloom for years.”

“Shut up Courf.” He said, embarrassment making his tone harsh. His friend only laughed as a response. 

“Interesting,” Jehan said, making what they must have thought was meaningful eye contact with Grantaire, who laughed nervously, “Very interesting.”

“Shut up, Jehan.” He said, kindly, before turning on the video camera. 

The smell of the water was strong now, and the inky black water glittered under the light of the fake torches. Joly, who had decided to risk the epilepsy warning, on his medication and after reading in detail about the exact uses of strobe lighting in the ride, had left his crutches with his wheelchair outside, and was beginning to regret it, underestimating how draining standing for thirty minutes would be on his legs. 

Three years ago, Joly had had a seizure that rendered him unconscious for a long time, and when he’d awoken he hadn’t been able to walk. It had been a difficult time for them, with Bousset being fired on the same day from yet another job, and Musichetta having to work to pay for their apartment as he could no longer do his job as a doctor, but eventually with physical therapy he’d regained use of them in small doses of the day. While he got better and better every day, straining them was a bad idea, and he cursed himself for not listening to his girlfriend’s advice as they entired the queue.

Bousset helped him into the third row of the boat, beside Musichetta, Marius and Cosette. In front of them Enjolras, Jehan, Feuilly and Bahorel climbed into the boat, helping one another down the steps and before them Eponine, Gavroche, Grantaire, Courfeyrac and Combeferre took the front. “For Gavroche’s sake,” Courfeyrac had said, yanking the boy into the boat with him, making them laugh. 

Behind them the boat was filled with strangers as a voice sounded over the loudspeaker, “Ahoy there, crew! For your safety, remain seated, keeping your hands, arms, feet and legs inside the boat- and watch your children (“Someone watch Courf” Combeferre said, and his boyfriend pouted at him) Prepare to make sail!” 

As they Spanish safety announcements began, Grantaire filmed them all waving at him, before putting it into his bag on the floor, not wanting to risk dropping it or ruining the ride. At his side, Eponine rested her head on him, sweaty hair on his neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to move her, placated by the heat and rather alien feeling of calm enjoyment in his chest. 

The boat took off a little while after the one in front, and they were thrust into a darkened cavern with an eerie blue light at the end. As the boat turned round the corner, slow on the water, a voice resounded over the sound of a waterfall, which they could see illuminated in this strange light as they approached, “DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES.” 

“What about dead women?” Cosette whispered, making those who heard her giggle. 

Mist overcame the boat as Davy Jones, projected on the water, refuted the statement, and as they went through the waterfall (a series of “ugh!” and “Shit that’s real water?” among them) it sounded as if the cave was full of wind, howling and fierce. Skeletons dressed as pirates greeted them, and the wispy remains of a ghost ship on the horizon. 

“Fuck” said Gavroche, trying to be brave. 

The boat turned into darkness, and suddenly began to dip, eliciting shrieks from the majority of them who hadn’t expected it, and Courf who just enjoyed shrieking. 

They were suddenly faced with an immense pirate ship, while the theme from the film played, water sprayed as cannons were “fired” above, with sound effects and flashes of light to show impact, comedic screaming heard from the town they were being shot at. This turned into a pirate town, with what seemed like hundreds of animatronics lit with a warm yellow light, the sky above them still as dark as a real night sky. 

“You know, the movie was based on the ride, not the other way around.” Jehan piped up from where they sat between Enjolras and Feuilly, before pointing out the animatronic woman on “Auction”. As the boat made its way through the town the animatronics “ran” through the buildings along the river, as large as actual buildings, and their delight was broken only by the sudden heat of real flames in front of them. 

The town in this “room” if you could call it that, of the ride was aflame, a clever illusion of lights and fabrics in the wind, but real flames supplemented the sight as the animatronics swayed to the “Pirate’s life for me” chorus and the boat moved into the tunnel under the town, another representation of the prison, the flames burning bright on the other side of the cells. A vaguely familiar voice of Jack Sparrow could be heard singing the chorus as the boat made its way slowly around, revealing, finally, an animatronic, incredibly lifelike and accurately resembling the character, on a pile of pirate loot. 

The giftshop was a little too bright as they made their way out the ride and into it, enjoyment fading into a dull hunger as the day moved on around them. “That was awesome!” Gavroche whooped, “When are we going to go on a fast ride though?”

“After lunch has digested,” Eponine said, leading the group to a hot-dog stand, “Let’s find a place to sit in the shade.”

It was easier said then done, but eventually they settled on a low wall nearby, half in the shade of a tree, the others basking in the sun. Jehan, Marius and Gavroche had been herded into the shade as top priority, and the two gingers sat in a slightly resentful solidarity as Enjolras stepped back a few paces into the sun to take a few candids of the group.

After they’d eaten, Courfeyrac suggested they go see The Tiki Room, a performance of animatronic birds singing, set in a small theatre, while their lunch digested. The group began to make their way to the attraction, chatting amicably, and Gavroche tugged on Eponine’s shirt, “’Ponine I don’t wanna do that one.”

Eponine blinked then smiled, “Okay Gav, let’s go get an ice cream instead.” She turned to the group, surprised to see Marius standing there, eyes on her and a small smile on his face. Was he waiting for her by choice or had the group told him to? 

“I think um, we’re gonna sit this one out.” She said, aware her mouth was dry.

“I’ll join you.” He said, grinning at Gavroche. His eyes lifted to meet hers, “If that’s okay?”

“Oh. Of course.” She said, “Wanna buy us some ice cream?” 

It was a joke, but his eyes widened and his mouth turned into a wider smile, “Sure! Of course I can!”

“No, no Marius I was joking you don’t have to-“

“I want to.” He smiled, then turned to Gavroche, “First one to the ice cream stand has 10 push-ups.”

Eponine laughed despite herself as the boys sprinted towards the poor woman in the ice-cream stand, who flinched and backed away as they approached. The 10 push-ups thing had been invented by Marius and herself when they were at university together. They’d both hated the gym a lot (though she had actually been good at it, Marius was useless as well as despised the place) and so, on agreement that forfeits should be punishments, had decided that 10 push-ups would both force them to exercise and motivate them to win challenges. 

As she followed them, she watched as Marius groaned in an exaggerated gesture, handing Gavroche a ten dollar note and getting on the floor, wincing at the heat of it under the sun. 

“One,” she said, grinning, and he glanced up to look at her, before picking up the pace. 

“Two, Three, Four,” she said, pointing out two mickey-shaped ice creams for herself and the ridiculous man on the floor, “Five, Six- come on Marius, Seven, Eight.”

“Nine,” Gavroche continued, taking the change and holding it out to Marius, “Ten!”

The man leapt to his feet, stumbling slightly and laughing, “Never say I’m not a man of my word. Thanks.” He took the change and ice-cream and beamed at Eponine, who snatched her ice-cream with a blush and went to a small shady spot to sit. 

////

“I am only slightly irritated by the way the French bird talked,” Enjolras said as they left, making Cosette laugh on his arm. 

“it’s fine, the Spanish bird was far worse,” Bahorel said, scrunching his face in distate, “But it’s for kids so it’s just so they know what they’re meant to be, I guess.”

“Not like our kid was even there,” Combeferre said, nodding his head towards Gavroche, Marius and Eponine, who were waiting outside for the show to end. 

“Okay people let’s head to frontier land!” Courfeyrac turned around, “Splash mountain awaits!”

Frontierland resembled what they, a group of French youths, assumed the Wild West had looked like. The music over loudspeaker was now country in theme, and as they passed an attraction called The Country Bear’s Jamboree, Musichetta’s face darkened and she said, “Never Again. Trust me.”

The ride they were about to go on was immense, made to look like, well, a mountain. Log flumes shot down one side of it, into a part made to look like a cartoony patch of brambles.

“It’s based on an that racist movie Song of the South,” Courfeyrac told him, “But the cutesy antrhomorphic animal bits, so it’ll be fun. We’ll probably get wet!” 

“Oh god.” Enjolras said, but he grinned almost as wide as his friend did, and the two led the way to the base of the mountain. 

“It’s an 88 foot tall ride,” Combeferre told the rest of the group, “So a bit more of a thrill ride than the others.”

“I’m gonna stay off this one, lads.” Musichetta announced, a strained smile on her face, “I don’t like heights.”

This was true, but she wasn’t usually one to back down from a ride, no matter how scary. Joly, in his wheelchair as she pushed it, turned to look at her with a concerned expression.

“I’ll keep you company. I doubt they’ll let me on anyway at the moment.” 

She smiled, kissed his forehead and bid the group adieu, pushing him round to where they’d have a good view of their friends coming down the slide.

Marius held Cosette’s hand as they joined the queue, the banjo music accompanied by a ride painted a brownish red, made to look like a mountain under a sweltering sun much like the one they stood underneath now. The water here smelt similar to the Pirates of the Caribbean, but the scenery and atmosphere- mounted antlers, rudimentary looking log fences etc- made it seem so different. 

There was eight to a car, and as they walked past the long, long line of other guests waiting, they were prepared to be separated. Gavroche pulled Grantaire to the front of the first car that arrived, whooping as Grantaire helped him climb down into the flume and pulled the bar down until it stuck in place over their laps. 

Behind them sat Eponine and Enjolras, who had become quite good friends the last month or so as the group had prepared for this holiday. As he held out his arm for Eponine to take as she stepped into the boat, he glanced up to see Grantaire lifting her brother, tickling the boy as he resisted, “I’m not a baby, R!” 

Enjolras smiled, and the thought that Grantaire would be good with their kids made his stomach flip and he banished it, embarrassed. 

Behind them sat Marius and Cosette, Bahorel and Feuilly, who were still chatting to the others in the line when their boat took off, leaving Courfeyrac waving enthusiastically at the gate. 

The boat turned up to a steep incline, and its occupants held their breath, “Is this the drop?” Gavroche asked, and suddenly he was turning more and more into Grantaire’s body, and the man laughed as the boat righted itself at the top, a gentle slope leading into the mountain, where animatronics played country music. The slightly irritating happiness was only slightly undermined by the sound of screams in the distance, of the other boats finding the real drop elsewhere on the ride.

The other les amis’ boat followed theirs, and laughed at them when they shrieked their way down the first fast drop, no more than 10 feet, before heading into a more intimidating part of the ride (if you weren’t scared of animatronics, like Eponine was beginning to think she was, or at least violently disgusted by them.)

“Old cartoons were so morbid” Enjolras noted as they passed a large animatronic bear hanging from a tree, goofy grin on his face. Signs began to say, and they entered a room made to look like a cave, signs with “LOOK OUT” and “BRER FOX’S LAIR” Showing a change in tone alongside vultures lit up in flashing lights. They were saying something about sure death on the other side, but they barely had time to process before the log hurtled down the ride, making them scream and laugh as a flash of a camera went off.

Water soaked through Grantaire and Gavroche, at the front, who spluttered and cursed, each earning a light smack from Eponine as a result, Enjolras chuckling as his hair was stuck to his face with the water, catching Grantaire’s eye and giggling. 

The boat came into a brighter setting of animatronics, singing and playing music, and they took the time to turn around to look at the boat behind, careful not to leave their seats. 

Courfeyrac, still sclinging to his boyfriend beside him, grinned and waved at them, “Isn’t this amazing?” 

“Hell yeah.” Feuilly replied, his lazy grin sinking when he saw the photo of them down the ride.

“I’m buying the hell out of this one because you look fucking awful, babe.” Bahorel said, fighting off Feuilly’s angry response to do just that. 

///

Under the shade of a tree sat two thirds of a thruple, in a comfortable if not slightly loaded silence. Joly, toying with the question he’d been meaning to ask in his head for a little while, tried to think of how to phrase “are you okay?” without sounding too concerned. 

His girlfriend, sunbathing slightly, took a drink of water and grinned at him, “You look hella cute today, babe.”

A blush erupted across his face and he beamed, worries momentarily forgotten, “Have you seen yourself?”

“Yeah, I know,” she grinned, “But you know what’s more fun? Knowing how great our boyfriend looks today.”

“You’re right.” Joly laughed, “It’s nice that we get to be so openly thirsty for someone else together.”

Musichetta giggled, taking a bite off her pretzel, “I think it’s the haunted mansion next, if you’re up to it.”

“Sure.” Joly said, as content to say nothing more as she was to sit in companionable silence. She grinned, climbed onto his lap and they sat together on his chair, her head resting on his shoulder, his arms around her waist. 

“Stop looking so cute you guys,” Bousset’s voice made them jump as his hands grabbed the handles of Joly’s chair and he began to- with great effort- push them both towards the rest of the group, who were looking sodden but happy a little while’s away. 

"On to Liberty Square!" Courfeyrac grinned, grabbing Combeferre and Enjolras' hands and dragging them up the flagstone path, not stopping to see if the others would follow. Joly got the feeling that this enthusiasm wasn't about to die any time soon, and as he watched Musichetta laugh and whoop as the wheelchair went over a few bumps, and heard rather than saw Bousset join in with her merriment, he couldn't help but wish that they could all stay like this forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have been listening to Disney Parks music and watching First person POV ride videos to write this, don't judge me- please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it, I'm really enjoying this fic!


	5. Magic Kingdom Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! sorry for such a long wait, i've been so busy- but the characters and the daydream of disneyland keeps me coming back!

“I don’t get why it’s called Liberty square?” Gavroche said as they made their way into the next themed land, a street made to look like an ideal colonial town. 

“Because the Americans were liberated from the English in a revolution-“

“yeah but we invented liberty!” Gavroche grinned, making Combeferre laugh beside him. 

“Sure we did, Gav.” 

As they walked into this land, Courfeyrac taking a picture of the Liberty Bell and pointing out the hall of presidents he said, “The only one around here worth doing is the Haunted Mansion- Unless anyone’s particularly interested in seeing animatronics of American presidents.”

“Pass.” Enjolras said, putting his sunglasses on as they left shade they had been stood in, “But I would think you’d want to go to Ye Olde Christmas Shop”

“Oh my gosh I forgot!” Courfeyrac half-yelled, excitement once again over his face, “Good thing you reminded me! We’ll go there after the fastpass!”

Enjolras chuckled- the fact it was July wasn’t going to stop Courf, so he didn’t bother to mention it. 

They turned to head up a hill, the Haunted Mansion in the distance. It loomed, and as they approached even those who knew it to be a family friendly ride felt a little apprehensive. The mansion was tall and gothic, dark among the bright colours of the theme park. Gavroche seemed to be excited, however, and was already tugging Eponine up ahead of the group towards the line. 

“We can go in the shorter queue for this one,” Combeferre explained, gesturing for the rest to follow him into the correct line of people. 

The line wound around through faux-brick walls and iron gates, seeming to enter the gardens of an antebellum-era mansion. As they walked, passing by a stationary line with only slight pride, they passed by a cemetery and mausoleum filled with puns, still talking about the “invisible-horse-drawn carriage” at the beginning of the line. 

“I hope the ghost of the horse shows up in the picture we took,” Musichetta grinned, and Joly grimaced, “I really hope not.” 

“Did you know,” Cosette said, now at the front with Gavroche, Courfeyrac and Eponine, “That there’s a story behind these busts?” 

The group was passing now, taking their time, five head busts in a row. 

“They were a family who killed each other for money. The Dread family.” She said, trying to sound spooky and dramatic, “Bertie killed his uncle with snake venom. For revenge, Aunt Florence killed Bertie with her gun. The twins killed her for accidentally killing their canary in the process and Maude killed them with a croquet racket. She then accidentally set herself on fire because she forgot she had kept her bun pinned with matches.”

Eponine grinned, “Kinda dark. I like it.”

Cosette beamed at her, “Right?” all sunshine again. 

If Gavroche was looking a little pale, neither of the women mentioned it. 

Organ music continued to play over the chatter as they continued past several more activities for those in the longer line to do- like play music on a memorial shaped like a piano keyboard (Gavroche leaned through the bars between the lines to press the nearest key several times until Eponine chucked him over her shoulder and dragged him along the line.)

The line eventually led inside the mansion, through a small hallway into a large, octangular room with striped pinkish wallpaper and four large paintings. As they were ushered to the front of the room, Eponine took a look around as Courfeyrac grabbed at her arm in trepidation- or perhaps excitement, considering the grin on his face. The first was the bust of a woman with a pretty pink umbrella in front of a startlingly blue sky. Next was an old fashioned looking gentleman who appeared to be some sort of official. An old lady holding a rose to her face with a serene expression was the subject of the next one. And finally, a cross looking man with a bowler hat and folded arms on a beige background was the last of the set.

The organ music continued until the doors shut, and the lights flickered. Suddenly a voice could be heard over head, deep, eerie and languid in tone. “When hinges creak in doorless chambers… and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls…. Whenever candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still… that is the time that ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight.”

A pause, as the audience held their breath and then,“Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host. Your Ghost Host.” And an evil laugh echoed throughout the room. “Kindly step all the way in, please, and make room for everyone. There’s no turning back now.” 

The doors were shut behind them as the Disney employee standing at the back with a slight smile on his face said, “Please drag your bodies away from the walls and into the dead centre of the room.”

“Our tour begins here in this gallery where you see paintings of some of our guests where they appeared in their corruptible… mortal state.” Continued the Ghost Host, “Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching?”

As they looked around, the walls appeared to stretch before their eyes- and the paintings along with them. What had seemed like the bottom frame of each portrait moved slowly, revealing something awful happening to each of the subjects- the pretty woman standing on a tight rope above the hungry maws of two alligators, the grim looking man atop the shoulders of two other men, slowly sinking into quicksand- the old fashioned man stood on top of a lit barrel of dynamite, and finally the old woman with the serene smile appeared to be sat atop the grave of her murdered husband. 

“Consider this dismaying observation: this chamber has no windows and no doors… which offers you this chilling challenge: to find a way out!” the Ghost Host laughed, and Eponine felt Courfeyrac’s hand tighten on her shoulder, “Of course, there’s always my way.”

Thunder clapped suddenly, deafeningly loud, and the lights went out as a woman screamed over the speakers. Grantaire, who had up to this point been looking around with lazy curiosity, started as fingers made contact with his arm, and startled further as he turned around to see a wide-eyed Enjolras, pale and with a nervous smile. 

“You okay there?” he asked, voice softer than he would have liked, and cleared his throat. 

Enjolras blinked a few times, before a deep red spread across his face. The doors had begun to open behind him and as the lights came back on, he removed his hand. Grantaire resisted grabbing him as he withdrew. “Of course.” Enjolras said, “Sorry.” 

“It’s absolutely fine.” Grantaire grinned, and was about to be snarky when he heard Combeferre say to Bahorel, 

“I wonder how they made it look like a body was hanging from the ceiling.” 

Odd. Grantaire hadn’t noticed that at all.

They were shuffled into a hallway now, cobwebbed and dark, along with the others in the room, as the Ghost Host continued, “There are several prominent ghosts who have retired here from creepy old crypts all over the world. Actually, we have 999 happy haunts here- but there’s room for 1,000. Any volunteers? If you insist on lagging behind, you may not NEED to volunteer.” 

“Fun Fact,” Cosette said, her arm linked with Courfeyrac’s, “There may actually be 999 happy haunts here- it’s one of the most popular rides to scatter peoples’ ashes.”

“Gross,” said Jehan, in awe. 

“And now, a carriage approaches to take you into the boundless realm of the supernatural. Take your loved ones by the hand, please, and kindly watch your step. Oh yes, and no flash pictures please. We spirits are frightfully sensitive to bright lights.”

The line now approached a quickly moving conveyer belt, on which ride carts were being boarded by other guests. “Partners.” Combeferre informed them all, and they spent a few semi-frantic moments trying to decide.

“You and me, Gav.” Eponine grinned, high fiving her enthusiastically nodding brother. 

“I’ll take Joly,” Bousset said to his girlfriend, “In case I have to lift him into the cart.”

“Rad,” she said, “I can go with Cosette that way.”

Marius and Jehan were paired, as well as Bahorel and Feuilly, who had just simply linked hands without discussion, and Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who was melodramitcally pretending to be scared of the ride as his boyfriend took his hand and led him onto the first doom buggy.

“Wanna sit next to me, Apollo?” Grantaire asked, unable to resist teasing, “In case you get scared again?”

Enjolras gave him a funny look that could have been read as irritated or confused. “I uh… I don’t like ghost rides.” He admitted, and the honesty in the face of Grantaire’s joke made Grantaire feel… strange.

“It’ll be fine.” He said, “It’s meant to be funny, and you can close your eyes if you want. I won’t tell anyone.” 

Enjolras smirked, “I’m not going to freak out on you or anything. I’m just a little uncomfortable.” But he stood close to Grantaire even as they stood in the relatively wide lane for the queue. 

As the safety bar lowered automatically over the top of them, Grantaire was suddenly overly aware of his stomach and thighs’ size in comparison to the man beside him’s. However, his own weight had never been one of his many insecurities- he was more concerned with how thin Enjolras looked. They hadn’t known each other when they were growing up, but Courfeyrac had told him one time that Enjolras’ insomnia vs his overwhelming need to keep busy kept him moving for most of the day and night, and paired with his high metabolism had been cause for concern on many occasions when they were younger. But as Enjolras shifted and his legs pressed against the bar, Grantaire was satisfied that he was overthinking it- and also became hyper aware that he’d been staring for some time at Enjolras’ thighs. Whipping his attention back to the ride, he waved to Jehan as they climbed onto the buggy behind, and watched as the buggies made their way in a slight incline into the room beyond.

Travelling into a long picture gallery, “lightning” outside of the windows revealed horrifying versions of each painting, and Enjolras leant over him slightly to point them out, his cologne sharp and strong against the deliberate must of the ride they were now on. As they continued, the Ghost Host narrated what they could see, “Our Library is well stocked with priceless…” the marble bust illusions convincing them that their stone eyes were following the buggies as they made their way up further still, edging slowly into a moonlit hall, a piano playing itself- or in flashes, a shadow on the floor- a ghost playing the piano. They passes by dozens of illuminated staircases leading nowhere sensible, and blinking eyes in wallpaper. A hall with a floating candelabra at the end, a coffin being opened as a man’s cartoony voice begged “let me out of here!” and a door rattled as if about to be burst open, green light glowing beyond its frame. They passed a grandfather clock, the hands spinning round and around to no real purpose.

On another buggy, Marius was attempting to be brave as Jehan gasped and silently “ooohed” at the details. The buggies turned into a larger room, where objects floated in darkness, surrounding an illuminated head in a ball; the head of Madame Leota, the fortune teller, her voice echoing over the sound system; “Serpants, and spiders- tail of a rat. Call in the spirits, wherever they’re at!” 

A ghostly “oooh” echoed before she continued, “Rap on a table- it’s time to respond. Send us a message from somewhere beyond!”

The sound of knocking on a table came next, and Jehan turned towards their companion, “I’ve done a séance a few times before. They never look like this, unfortunately.”

Marius, not sure how to respond, just smiled as the woman’s voice continued; “Goblins and ghoulies from last Halloween, awaken the spirits with your tambourine!”

At the sound of a tambourine, in the buggy before theirs, Courfeyrac shivered and shuffled a little closer to Combeferre, who slung his arm around the shorter man and rested the side of his face in his boyrfriend’s curls. The heat had not dropped for even a second, and it was nice to be inside the cool darkness of the ride, even if it was designed to be creepy and smell musty. 

“Creepies and crawlies, toads in a pond, let there be music from regions beyond!” the voice continued, as a brass instrument began to play music somewhat jarringly, “Witches and witches, wherever you dwell, give us a hint, by ringing a bell!”

As the bell rang, Combeferre felt Courf’s hand cover his as the other man leant into him, still looking around, trying to see everything, probably- but in a much less exaggerated way now he had his boyfriend to cuddle as well.

The doom buddies passed now up as if on a balcony peering over an elaborate ballroom, an illusion involving mirrors and fake ghosts making it appear as if dozens of ghostly couples were gliding across the dancefloor- or fatter, drunk ghosts ate from an extensive buffet, drinking what appeared to be wine from silver-plated goblets. Organ music played on as the buggies continued, moving up further still into a dark, dingy room.

“It’s the attic.” Courfeyrac whispered, and his fingers tightened slightly around Combeferre’s. 

A woman’s voice, distorted and harsh, was coming from somewhere else in the attic, and as the buggy turned around, through the antique looking paintings and cobwebs, standing beside an uncut wedding cake stood a glowing figure of a woman, her face just visible through a long white veil, as her malicious words echoed through the room, “In sickness and in…. wealth. You may now kiss the bride. We’ll live happily ever after. Till Death do us part.” As the carts circled her, the audio continued its cycle, “Here comes the bride. As long as we Both shall live. For better or for… worse. I do. I did.” 

The buggies swung past her out of the attic window, now immersed in the chorus of “grim grinning ghosts as they moved over an elaborate rooftop, plunged into darkness. Projections of ghosts soared up over them, high over the iron fence as the buggies began their descent into the graveyard, the song catchy and much cheerier than the rest of the ride. As Combeferre took it all in he looked up, through the trees, where hundreds of tiny lights appeared as stars. 

The sounds of meowing cats and the occasional shriek were the only thing to scare here- and as they passed singing busts and a body having tea in the front buggy Eponine was beginning to relax, having feared it would be much worse, until an animatronic popped up from a nearby grave, making her jolt back in her seat and Gavroche laughed.

She was about to swat at him when the buggies left the graveyard, heading instead into what seemed to be a long hall with mirrors in between dividing columns of brickwork- showing a different “Hitchiking Ghost” in the carriage with them. In the middle buggy, Cosette and Musichetta pretended to flirt with their ghost, who had materialised in between them, to the amusement of the other people in buggies either side, the angle and lighting in this hall meaning that they could now see one another again.

The doom buggies began to slow as they were greeted with another moving platform as the ghosts voiceover sang “If you would like to join our jamboree, there’s a simple rule that’s compulsory. Mortals pay a token fee; Rest in peace, the haunting’s free. So hurry back, we would like your company.”

The bright light of the Floridian sun made them squint as they left the ride, Gavroche on Courfeyrac’s back as they waited for Cosette and Jehan to take photos by the ride’s entrance. “This is going straight to Montparnasse. He’ll be so jealous.” Jehan said, making Cosette giggle, and Eponine roll her eyes. 

“You can do so much better, Jehan.” She said, joking despite her concerns. She had known Monteparnasse almost all her life- when she still lived with her parents in their pub he had worked illegally underage in the kitchens with her and her siblings, and dabbled in some of the worse things her father was doing. But, as they’d got older and she’d gotten out of that house, she’d offered for him to come with her and he had- and for a while the two had tried to become “normal” together, and now he lived by himself and was training to be a doctor, so that was something. He seemed to everyone who didn’t know him, to be living a perfect life- but eponine knew better. She knew about the wads of money he kept in his dresser or under his bed. She knew about the used syringes she’d found in his bathroom, about the sick on the floor and the pallid yellow of his face when he had overdosed- she knew from experience that addiction was an affliction that never quite went away, like her father and his drinking and her mother and her gambling and… affairs. 

Gavroche, luckily, was too young to remember when she and Monteparnasse had been even remotely like the thenardiers. And Jehan had been warned, at one point by Monteparnasse himself, about the man’s many flaws, so she really had no right to worry- but she did anyway. 

“Oh shush he’s hilarious.” Jehan grinned, and nearly everyone else wondered how someone could consider Monteparnasse in such a way before continuing with their day.

Ye Olde Christmas Shoppe was back in Liberty Square, and Bousset, growing tired of walking, pushed Joly’s chair towards the hill before leaping onto the back of it, the two hurtling down towards the crowd.

“Don’t hit anyone!” Musichetta yelled, “We are not getting kicked out of Disneyland!”

“That would be a new low, even for us.” Combeferre said to Enjolras, making him laugh.

Ye olde Christmas shop smelt overwhelmingly like the season. Grantaire scrunched up his nose and grimaced as cinnamon, citrus and pine flooded his nostrils, laughing as Jehan began to fangirl over the many Halloween decorations across one wall, and Courfeyrac began to fill Combeferre’s arms with Christmas decorations. “We have to get these back in the cases, Courf.”

“That’s why I packed the empty one!”   
///  
Next, the group made their way through the castle into Fantasyland, going the long way around for the effect of the walk into the castle. Cosette grabbed Eponine’s arm as they fell to the back of the group, smiling sweetly as ever. 

“Hey can you lift me up onto the side of the wall here and take a photo of me by the castle? It’s a perfect Instagram shot not gonna lie.”

Eponine, flushing slightly, nodded dumbly and followed the smaller girl to the aforementioned wall, decorated to look like a medieval castle’s approaching wall might, and (after what felt like years of internal conflict between “I have to touch her waist to lift her” and “if I touch her waist I might explode”) Eponine gently lifted her, immediately tensing when the fabric of Cosette’s t-shirt gave way to warm, soft skin underneath, and hastily taking the steps back necessary to take the photo. 

Cosette grinned, biting her lip for a second before straightening and posing for the photos, Eponine as dedicated as she could be while in gay panic mode. “Come on guys!” Courfeyrac called from the base of the castle, “We’re on a tight schedule.”

“We’d better listen,” Eponine said, offering her hand to Cosette, who took it and leapt off the wall with a light thud, her fingers lingering slightly before heading up towards Courfeyrac. It’s in your head, Eponine told herself, all in your head. 

The line for Peter Pan was the shortest, so it was on the ride they went. “You know, Eponine used to have a crush on Peter Pan,” Gavroche piped up suddenly, “Monteparnasse told me.”

Glaring, Eponine mock punched him, “shut up Gavroche.” Deliberately not looking at Marius, she stepped onto the ride and was thankful it was dark, feeling the blush on her face without needing to see it.

“Time for an actual classic.” Bousset said, voice determined and amused, as the group stood at the entrance for It’s A Small World. 

“Dear God help us.” Enjolras muttered as Combeferre patted his arm and cast him a wide-eyed, tight-lipped smile. 

The disabled boat came around quicker than they’d expected, which was good because Joly’s legs didn’t seem to want to make life easy for him today. Sweating uncomfortably, slightly worried about his girlfriend and frustrated, the last thing he wanted to do particularly was go through an entire ride of animatronics. The employee smiled brightly as she opened the door to the wider space made to fit wheelchairs, and Bousset pushed him in, Musichetta climbing into the boat first so that she could sit between them. As soon as the door shut, Joly closed his eyes and tried to stop himself from getting upset, not wanting to ruin anyone else’s time, like how he always managed to find something wrong with what they were doing and then someone would look at him like That, with a look of disappointment or dismay or guilt and he would feel- Musichetta’s hand was in his, suddenly, and he opened his eyes to see both Bousset and Musichetta smiling warmly at him, holding hands with one another as well. It wasn’t that bad after all, maybe, if they got this private row for it, he supposed as he brought her hand up to kiss, making her giggle and fake swoon into Bousset. 

Grantaire, Jehan, Feuilly and Bahorel climbed in in front, the first helping Jehan into the boat (their legs being shorter than average) and Bahorel helping Feuilly into the boat (because he loved pretending his tall, but only just shorter than him boyfriend was tiny). In front of them, Cosette, Marius and Enjolras climbed in, waving at the camera Grantaire had put on as Combeferre helped an emotional Courfeyrac and a slightly irate-looking Gavroche into the front row. 

“They’re creepy,” Bahorel said as they entered the first room of cheerily singing animatronic doll-children. 

“They’re cute!” Courf and Cosette half-yelled, the former pouting at Bahorel who shook his head.

“Nah man they’re terrifying.”

“Hey Bahorel,” Jehan said, their voice teasing but somewhat excited, “Did you know that Small World is one of the most popular places for people depositing their loved ones’ ashes?”

“Hey Jehan? Fuck you.”

“Your future kids could be watching this video later on and hear you say that.” Joly said, laughing, and Jehan grinned,

“My future kids would’ve heard a lot worse come out of my mouth believe me.” 

“Hey look that’s us!” Courfeyrac shouted, suddenly, pointing at a group of dolls dressed in intricately detailed cabaret outfits, singing the song’s lyrics in their mother tongue. 

“This must be the Europe room,” Combeferre said, noting the Russian dancers, Spanish Flamenco outfits and Lederhosen different groups of dolls sported. 

The next room was expansive and vibrant, and the music shifted to different languages, all alien to them, as they passed underneath colourful kites flying ahead. Some of these dolls had darker skin, while the others had been painted with Asian features, “Morocco!” Gavroche called, beginning a game that would surely annoy the boat behind.

“Russia!” Enjolras and Courferyac called back, both pointing at the same time and laughing. 

“Israel!” Grantaire half-yelled, suddenly excited, “My saba always said it’s the cleanest place in the world,” he grinned, making sure the video camera could see Gavroche kneeling up to crane his neck around the room, desperate to one-up his friends. 

“Your granddad was a strange man,” Jehan, who had come to visit the man with Grantaire on a number of occasions in the nursing home, said fondly, “Oh, I think that’s Japan by the way!”

“Shit I should’ve spotted that one really,” Joly, who had Japanese parents, said with a mock guilty expression. 

The next room was darker, and seemed to be Jungle themed. It was filled on both sides of the boat with huge animatronic animals; smiling purple and pink hippos, colourful tropical birds, and huge green leaves that made the dolls fairly hard to focus on. A tree full of monkeys, holding onto one anothers tails slowly shifted up and down as their boat drifted by.

“Is this the amazon or?” Gavroche asked, and Courfeyrac shook his head, almost dislodging his Ears headband,

“It’s all different jungles, not sure which ones entirely.”

They passed an iceberg, on which penguin animatronics spun.

“Okay that’s kinda cute.” Eponine said, chuckling. Half the group immediately imitated penguin shuffling in their seats while Grantaire, holding the video camera, struggled to contain his laughter as Enjolras, after raising an eyebrow, joined in with a dopey smile. 

“Dork” he muttered, unable to contain the syrup on the word and flushed, turning off the camera, making a note to cut that part out when he showed the others what he’d shot of their holiday. The rest of the ride was filled with discussions vis-à-vis the potential that the dolls could come to life and kill them all (Grantaire, Bahorel, Gavroche, Jehan, Joly and Bousset adamant that not only could they come to life but they were murderous, Cosette and Musichetta holding the stance that they were alive but benevolent, and the others telling them they were all ridiculous).

“If we hurry,” Courfeyrac said, holding Combeferre and Enjolras’ hands and lifting them both so that he could look at his watch- which he wasn’t actually wearing- “We can go on the Mad Tea Party before dinner!”

“Dinner?” Combeferre asked, paling slightly. 

Courfeyrac, not noticing his boyfriend’s sudden change in tone, beamed instead, “It’s at the Be Our Guest restaurant!”

Combeferre, who had been concerned that Courfeyrac would book the restaurant in the castle he planned to propose in, grinned and let out a huff of relief, “Sounds great, darling.” 

The Mad Tea Party consisted of loud, themed music, and small cars with a booth and a wheel inside, so that they could spin them as much or as little as they liked. True to form, Grantaire and Gavroche decided to spin theirs until one of them was sick- but they didn’t account for this person to be Eponine, who was green and very, very angry after the ride stopped. 

They ate in the Grand Ballroom, a themed dining hall designed to look like the iconic ballroom where Belle and The Beast dance and realise their affections for one another, trying not to disturb the other groups having a much quieter meal than any of theirs could turn out to be. “The chandeliers and the ceiling are amazingly accurate!” Cosette said, eyes wide and in awe, her hands clasped over Marius’. Marius felt himself blush as he looked at her, wondering again how lucky he was to have her as his girlfriend- and instantly he felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about Eponine. How could he ask for more than what he was already unworthy of?

Courfeyrac, who had until that point been, while excitable, fairly relaxed about the whole thing, checked his phone and practically jumped out of his seat. “We have to go get our seats for the fireworks!” he said, grabbing at Jehan and Combeferre, who were nearest to him, to try and pull them out of their seats.

“What’s the hurry?” Feuilly asked, yawning and smiling contentedly as Courfeyrac moved on to ushering a perturbed Enjolras and Musichetta out of their seats.

“If we don’t go early we won’t get a good spot!” 

“It’s fireworks. Surely anywhere we can see the sky is good enough?” Eponine said, more to get a rise out of the man tugging at her arm than anything else, and he swatted at her. 

“You’ll see. It’s so magical when you’re in the right place.”

About a quarter of an hour later and they found themselves sitting in front of the castle, hot and sweaty and exhausted, but all smiling ear to ear. Music started, to the cheers of the crowd, and the enthusiasm was contagious. Cosette, sitting next to Eponine, threw her arm around her and grinned, lifting her phone up above the two of them, “Say cheese!” 

Eponine tried not to look too flustered or too sweaty in the photo- to little success on either account, but Cosette smiled as she brought it up on her phone to look at, “Great. This is going on my bedroom wall at home.”

Musichetta, who was currently sat on Joly’s lap, rested her head against his shoulder as he kissed her forehead. Bousset returned with a churro for her and an ice cream for Joly and knelt down beside Joly’s chair, smiling soppily, “You guys I saw the cutest little kid in line for ice cream, he was pretending he couldn’t see his dad when he hid behind his hat it was adorable!”

“Aw I love when kids think they’ve tricked adults.” Joly smiled, “They’re so cute.”

Musichetta closed her eyes and let out a sigh, feeling much more at ease than she had before- maybe they’d both be excited about the pregnancy after all. 

Courfeyrac stared expectantly at the castle, his eyes wide, expression open, and didn’t register Combeferre had moved close enough to kiss him until he did. “Oh! Sorry babe.” He giggled, “I guess I’m just off in my own world.”

“Yeah, you were.” Combeferre smiled, brushing a stray hair from his boyfriend’s face, “I’d love to be a part of that someday.”

“Don’t be silly.” Courfeyrac said, wrapping his arms around Combeferre’s neck, “You are my world.”

“Gay!” said Enjolras, making them laugh as they were brought out of their moment. Courfeyrac stuck out his tongue at Enjolras as Combeferre flipped his middle finger, both chuckling as Enjolras feigned hurt. 

Still smiling, Enjolras turned around to see Grantaire sitting beside him, looking just as awkward about it as Enjolras felt it should be. But- he realised with a start- it didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, to be this close to Grantaire. He shuffled slightly closer, just minutely, to see if the other man would recoil, but Grantaire didn’t move other than to shift position. Part of Enjolras thought that maybe he’d moved a little closer too.

“Let’s not go to a bar after this,” Bahorel, who had his arm around a sleeping Feuilly said, “Let’s just enjoy this and then go to bed.”

As murmers of agreement went through the group, the Voice over spoke; “And they all lived Happily Ever After”

For at least a moment, as fireworks exploded in hundreds of different, vibrant colours across the sky, they all thought that maybe they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos or a comment, they really do make my day! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, please comment if you liked it! :D


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